UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNI 
AT   LOS  ANGELES 


v; 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


STORIES    FROM 
OLD   FRENCH    ROMANCE 


STORIES    FROM 
OLD  FRENCH  ROMANCE 


BY 

E.   M.   WILMOT-BUXTON,   F.R.Hist.S. 


NEW  YORK 

FREDERICK    A.    STOKES    COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


PRINTFD    IN   GREAT   DRITAIN 


CONTENTS 


y -J 


a 


The  Storv  of  Aucassin  and  Nicolette  . 
I.     The  Troubles  that  befell  them 
II.     Nicolette's  Adventure  in  the  Forest 
III.    Their  Adventure  across  the  Sea 

The  Story  of  Constans  the  Emperor     - 

The  Story  of  Roland  and  Oliver    . 

The  Story  of  the  Death  of  Roland 
I.     The  Message  of  Marsilius 
II.     Ganelon  the  Traitor  .... 

III.  The  Pass  of  Roncesvalles  . 

IV.  The  Death  of  Roland 


"  5- 

The  Story 

I.  How 

r 

II.  The 

0 

III.  The 

IV.  I  low 

6. 

The  Story 

I.  How 

II.  How 

III.  How 

c 

The  Story 
I.  The 

OF  William  and  the  Werwolf    . 
William  was  carried  off  . 
Adventure  of  the  Two  White  Bears 
Adventure  of  the  Hart  and  the  Hind 
THE  Queen's  Dkeam  came  True 

OF  the  Enchanted  Knight    . 
Ogier  the  Dane  became  a  Knight  . 
Ogier  came  to  Fairyland 
Ogier  the  Dane  Returned 


The  Four  Sons  of  Aymon    . 
II.    The  Good  Steed  Bayard 
III.     The  Oath  of  the  Emperor 


TAGK 
I 

I 

7 
IS 


30 

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36 
42 

47 
3 

56 

56 
60 

65 
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76 

76 

85 
94 

100 
100 
109 
114 


THE  FIRST  STORY 

THE    STORY    OF    AUCASSIN 
AND   NICOLETTE 

(From  the  Conie-Fable  oi  Aucassm  and  Nicoletti) 

CHAPTER   I 

THE  TROUBLES  THAT   BEFELL  THEM 

"  Who  will  list  a  tale  to  hear, 
That  was  an  aged  captive's  cheer, 
Of  youth  and  maiden  fair  and  sweet, 
Aucassin  and  Nicolette?" 

ONCE  upon  a  time  it  so  fell  out  that  a  certain 
Count  Bougars  of  Valence  made  war  upon  Count 
Garin  of  Beaucaire ;  he  attacked  his  castle,  burned  his 
estates,  laid  waste  his  country,  and  killed  all  his  men. 

Count  Garin  was  an  old  man,  old  and  frail ;  and  he 
had  one  son  whose  name  was  Aucassin.  Golden-haired 
was  Aucassin,  and  his  eyes  grey-blue ;  his  face  was 
bright  and  merry,  and  he  had  many  good  gifts.  But  he 
had  fallen  deep  in  love  with  a  fair  maiden,  and  cared 
for  nothing  else  in  the  world  but  only  for  Nicolette. 

Then  said  his  parents  to  him, "  Son,  take  up  arms  and 
mount  thy  horse  and  go  fight  at  the  head  of  our  men." 

But  Aucassin  replied,  "  I  will  not  mount  horse,  nor 
will  I  go  to  battle  nor  strike  a  blow,  if  you  give  me  not 
my  sweet  friend  Nicolette  to  be  my  wife." 

Now  to  this  his  parents  would  not  agree,  for  Nicolette 
had  been  brought  as  a  captive  from  a  strange  country 
by  the  Saracens.  None  knew  whence  she  was,  but  the 
I 


S       STORIES   FROM   OLD   FRENCH   ROMANCE 

Viscount  of  the  neighbouring  town  had  bought  her, 
and  baptized  her,  and  made  her  his  god-daughter,  in- 
tending one  day  to  give  her  to  a  youth  of  humble  birth, 
who  should  honourably  earn  her  bread.  So  his  father 
blamed  Aucassin  for  his  choice,  saying,  "  Let  Nicolette 
alone ;  and  if  thou  wish  to  take  a  wife,  I  will  give  thee 
the  daughter  of  a  King  or  a  Count.  There  is  not  so 
great  a  man  in  France  but,  if  thou  wished  to  have  his 
daughter,  he  would  gladly  give  her  to  thee." 

But  the  youth  replied,  "  There  is  no  high  place  upon 
the  earth  that  Nicolette  would  not  adorn.  If  she  were 
Queen  of  France  or  of  England  it  would  be  little 
enough  for  her ;  so  true  is  she  and  gentle  and  gifted 
with  all  good  gifts." 

When  Count  Garin  of  Beaucaire  saw  that  he  could 
not  win  his  son  away  from  the  love  of  Nicolette,  he 
betook  himself  to  the  Viscount,  who  v/as  his  vassal,  and 
said  to  him — 

"Sir  Viscount,  away  with  your  god-daughter  if  you 
wish  to  save  her  life.  For  she  has  bewitched  Aucassin, 
who  will  not  take  up  arms  nor  fight  nor  do  anything 
that  he  should  ;  and  if  I  can  lay  hands  on  her,  I  will 
burn  her  in  a  fire ;  and  great  harm  shall  come  to  you 
also  in  the  end." 

Then  was  the  Viscount  very  sore  afraid,  and  began 
to  assure  the  Count  that  he  had  nothing  to  do  with  the 
matter ;  he  promised,  moreover,  that  he  would  send 
the  girl  away  to  a  land  where  the  eyes  of  Aucassin 
should  never  behold  her ;  and  so  they  parted. 

Now  the  Viscount  had  a  great  castle  in  the  midst  of 
a  garden,  and  in  the  castle  was  a  high  tower.  In  a 
room  at  the  top  of  this  tower  he  had  Nicolette  put,  and 
an  old  woman  with  her  for  company,  and  plenty  of  food 
and  wine.  Then  he  had  the  entrance  sealed,  so  that 
there  was  no  way  to  go  in  there  nor  to  come  out,  save 
that  there  was  a  tiny  window  looking  towards  the 
garden,  through  which  came  to  them  a  little  fresh  air. 


THE  STORY  OF  AUCASSIN  AND  NICOLETTE    3 

In  this  gloomy  chamber  sat  the  golden-haired  Nico- 
lette  and  gazed  sadly  at  the  woods  below.  She  saw  the 
roses  blossom  and  the  song-birds  fly,  and  cried  aloud, 
"  O  wretched  that  I  am,  that  I  must  live  my  life  within 
these  prison  walls!  For  thee,  my  Aucassin,  for  thy 
sake  am  I  here !  Yet  it  will  not  be  for  want  of  will  if 
I  do  not  escape  before  long." 

Now  the  report  soon  went  through  all  the  land  that 
Nicolette  was  lost.  Some  said  she  had  fled  out  of  the 
land,  others  that  Count  Garin  had  had  her  done  to 
death.  Then  was  Aucassin  beside  himself  with  grief; 
he  tried  all  he  knew  to  win  the  secret  from  the  Viscount, 
and  when  that  failed,  he  returned  to  his  father's  castle 
and  sat  him  down  within  his  chamber  to  weep  and 
lament  for  her  loss. 

Meantime  Count  Bougars  had  by  no  means  made 
an  end  of  the  war,  but  was  calling  forth  his  men,  horse 
and  foot,  to  besiege  the  castle  of  Count  Garin.  While 
the  assault  was  in  full  force,  and  when  it  seemed  as 
though  the  walls  must  shortly  give  way.  Count  Garin 
again  betook  himself  to  his  son's  chamber,  crying,  "Son, 
if  thou  lose  this  castle,  thou  art  disinherited,  and  may 
go  forth  into  the  world  a  beggar.  Come  now,  take 
arms  and  mount  horse  and  defend  thy  land  and  help 
thy  men.  For  if  thou  dost  not  do  this  thing,  men  will 
call  thee  coward." 

"  I  care  not  what  they  call  me,"  said  the  sad  youth ; 
"  nor  will  I  mount  horse  nor  go  to  the  fray  if  you  do 
not  give  me  Nicolette,  my  sweet  friend,  to  be  my 
wife." 

"  Son,"  said  his  father, "  this  cannot  be.  Rather  would 
I  lose  all  that  I  have  than  that  thou  shouldst  ever  wed 
her." 

He  turned  away,  but  Aucassin  cried  after  him, 
"  Father,  come  back  :  for  I  will  make  agreement  with 
you.  I  will  take  up  arms  and  go  to  the  fray  on  this 
condition,  that  if  I  come  back  safe  and  sound,  you  will 


4       STORIES   FROM   OLD   FRENCH   ROMANCE 

let  me  see  Nicolette,  my  sweet  friend,  and  speak  two  or 
three  words  to  her,  and  kiss  her  only  once." 

To  this  the  Count  agreed,  and  Aucassin  was  happy. 

Then  he  called  for  his  armour,  and  they  made  him 
ready  with  hauberk  and  helmet  and  gold-hilted  sword  ; 
and  he  sprang  upon  his  war-horse  and  reached  for  his 
shield  and  spear,  and  spurred  away  beyond  the  outer 
gate  into  the  thickest  of  the  fray. 

Tall  and  strong  and  well-knit  was  the  boy,  and  the 
horse  on  which  he  sat  was  fiery  and  eager ;  but  his 
mind  was  so  full  of  Nicolette  that  he  forgot  all  that 
he  ought  to  do.  So  the  horse  plunged  forward  un- 
checked into  the  very  midst  of  the  enemy,  and  hands 
were  stretched  out  on  every  side  against  him  ;  and  they 
wrested  from  him  shield  and  lance  and  took  him  prisoner 
on  the  spot,  and  began  discussing  by  what  death  he 
should  die. 

Then  Aucassin  at  length  realized  his  foolishness  and 
how,  if  his  head  were  cut  off,  he  would  never  speak  to 
Nicolette  again.  He  had  still  his  sword  in  his  sheath 
and  his  good  horse  under  him,  and  suddenly  began  to 
cut  right  and  left  and  make  a  havoc  round  about  him, 
so  that  he  overthrew  ten  knights  and  struck  down 
seven  ;  and  he  pushed  out  of  the  press  and  came  gallop- 
ing back  to  the  castle. 

Now  as  he  went,  the  Count  Bougars,  having  heard 
that  they  were  about  to  hang  Aucassin,  his  enemy, 
came  forth  from  the  camp  to  see  this  done.  Him  did 
Aucassin  meet  in  the  way,  and  struck  him  on  the 
helmet  so  that  he  fell  stunned  to  the  earth ;  and  the 
youth  put  forth  his  hand  and  seized  him  and  led  him 
captive  to  his  father,  saying,  "  Behold  your  enemy  who 
has  caused  you  such  trouble !  Twenty  years  has  this 
war  lasted,  and  never  could  be  ended  by  man." 

"  Fair  son,"  said  the  Count,  well  pleased,  "  such  deeds 
as  this  shouldst  thou  do,  and  not  waste  time  on  folly." 

*'  Father,"  replied  the  boy,  "  now  say  no  more,  I  pray 


THE  STORY  OF  AUCASSIN  AND  NICOLETTE     5 

you,  but  keep  your  agreement  with  me,  and  let  me  see 
fair  Nicolette ;  for  this  was  the  promise  you  made 
to  me." 

"  I  ?  "  said  his  father.  "  I  promised  thee  naught.  And 
if  she  were  here  I  would  burn  her  in  a  fire,  and  you  too 
should  not  escape  unhurt." 

Then  was  Aucassin  very  wroth,  and  in  his  anger  he 
took  Count  Bougars,  whom  he  had  made  his  prisoner, 
and  set  him  on  a  horse  and  gave  him  his  freedom.  But 
when  Count  Garin  saw  that  his  son  would  never  help 
him  again  nor  ever  forget  sweet  Nicolette,  he  had  him 
seized  and  bound  and  set  in  an  underground  dungeon, 
whose  walls  were  all  of  grey  marble ;  and  there  lay  the 
youth,  lamenting  his  evil  fate. 

Now  it  was  in  the  month  of  May,  when  the  days  are 
warm  and  long  and  the  nights  still  and  clear,  that  this 
hapless  pair  of  lovers  lay  in  prison.  And  one  night,  as 
Nicolette  lay  in  bed  and  heard  the  nightingale  sing,  she 
thought  much  of  Aucassin  and  of  the  ill-fate  that  might 
come  upon  her  at  the  hands  of  Count  Garin,  and  so 
determined  to  make  her  escape. 

She  saw  that  the  old  woman,  her  attendant,  was  fast 
asleep,  so  she  arose,  put  on  a  soft  silken  gown,  and 
taking  the  bed-clothes  and  towels,  tied  them  together 
and  made  a  rope  as  long  as  she  could.  She  fastened 
this  to  the  post  of  the  window,  and  let  herself  down 
into  the  garden.  Right  fair  the  maiden  looked  as  she 
walked  through  the  dewy  grass,  and  so  very  white  was 
her  skin  that  the  daisy  flowers  that  bent  under  her  foot- 
fall looked  dark  against  her  ankles. 

Through  the  postern  gate  she  passed,  and,  moving 
within  the  shadow,  kept  on  until  she  came  to  the  tower 
where  her  true  love  was. 

The  tower  was  old  and  supported  with  buttresses, 
and  she  crouched  down  beside  one  of  these  and  wrapped 
herself  in  her  cloak  ;  and  she  put  her  head  to  a  chink 
in  the  tower  and  heard  her  lover  weep  within  and  make 


6       STORIES   FROM   OLD   FRENCH   ROMANCE 

great  lament  for  the  sweet  friend  whom  he  loved  so 
much. 

Now  when  she  had  listened  for  a  while,  she  began  to 
speak  and  said,  "  O,  my  true  love,  stay  thy  laments,  for 
since  thy  father  hates  me  so,  he  will  never  be  at  peace 
with  thee  till  I  am  far  away.  Now  for  thy  sake  I'll 
cross  the  sea  and  wander  in  a  strange  land."  With 
these  words  she  wept,  and  cut  off  a  tress  of  her  hair 
and  cast  it  through  the  hole  into  the  dungeon  ;  but 
Aucassin  implored  her  not  to  go  away,  saying  that  this 
indeed  would  surely  kill  him. 

Now  while  they  talked  together,  they  were  marked 
by  the  Warden  of  the  Tower ;  yet  he,  being  a  man  of 
kindly  heart,  pretended  not  to  see  or  hear  them  ;  for  he 
was  grieved  for  them  both.  So  he  held  his  tongue  and 
said  nothing  when  the  patrol  of  the  town  came  along 
that  way ;  but  he  saw  they  had  drawn  swords  in  their 
hands  ready  to  kill  the  maiden  ;  for  so  Count  Garin  had 
commanded  should  be  done  if  she  should  ever  be  found 
to  have  escaped. 

So  he  began  to  sing  a  song,  as  though  he  were  singing 
to  himself,  and  this  was  what  he  sang — 

"Little  maid  with  grey-blue  eyne, 
Head  of  golden  hair  ashine, 
Hear  me  now  and  understand  : 
Hide  thee  from  the  hireling  band  ; 
They  are  coming  thee  to  slay, 
They  will  harm  thee  every  way, 
Hide  while  yet  thou  may  !" 

When  Nicolette  heard  this  song  she  understood  all, 
and  thanking  him  softly  for  his  courtesy,  she  wrapped 
herself  in  her  dark  cloak  and  stood  in  the  shadow  of 
the  buttress  till  the  patrol  had  passed  by.  Then  she 
whispered  farewell  to  Aucassin  and  ran  on  till  she  came 
to  the  wall  of  the  castle. 

The  wall  had  been  broken  down,  and  she  climbed  up 
it  till  she  stood  between  the  wall  and  the  dry  and  stony 


THE  STORY  OF  AUCASSIN  AND  NICOLETTE     7 

moat  below ;  but  the  moat  was  very  deep  and  sheer, 
and  she  was  sore  afraid. 

"What  shall  I  do?"  she  cried;  "for  if  I  let  myself 
fall  I  shall  break  my  neck,  and  if  I  stay  here  they  will 
take  me  in  the  morning  and  will  burn  me  in  a  fire.  Yet 
would  I  rather  die  here  than  be  stared  at  with  great 
wonder  by  all  the  folk  to-morrow." 

So  she  let  herself  slip  down  the  moat ;  and  when  she 
came  to  the  bottom  her  pretty  hands  and  feet  were 
bruised  and  covered  with  blood;  but  she  thought  nothing 
of  this,  for  her  great  fear  was  that  she  might  not  be 
able  to  climb  up  the  other  side.  But  she  found  at  the 
bottom  a  sharpened  stake,  and  with  this  aid  she  took 
one  upward  step  after  another  until  at  length  she 
reached  the  top,  and  there  she  sat  herself  down  for 
a  while  to  rest  and  consider  what  she  had  best  do  next. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  ADVENTURE  OF  NICOLETTE  IN  THE 
FOREST 

NOW  when  Nicolette  had  made  her  way  a  little 
from  the  castle,  she  found  herself  on  the  edge  of 
a  great  forest,  in  which  were  serpents  and  savage  beasts, 
and  of  these  she  was  very  sore  afraid.  Said  she  to  herself, 
"  If  I  seek  the  thick  forest,  wolves  will  seize  me  for 
their  food,  and  the  lion  and  the  wild  boar  will  tear  me 
in  pieces ;  and  if  I  wait  here  until  daylight  I  shall  be 
taken  and  burnt  alive.  Now  therefore  I  choose  the 
forest  with  all  its  dangers." 

So  she  passed  into  the  wood,  but  daring  not  to  go 
far,  she  crouched  down  in  a  dense  thicket  and  went  to 
sleep.  She  slept  till  dawn  of  day,  when  the  herd-boys 
came  forth  from  the  town  and  drove  their  beasts  between 


8       STORIES   FROM   OLD   FRENCH   ROMANCE 

the  forest  and  the  river.  On  they  passed  till  they  came 
to  a  fresh  spring,  which  was  at  the  edge  of  the  forest, 
and  there  they  spread  a  cloak  and  laid  their  food 
upon  it. 

When  Nicolette  awoke  and  saw  this,  she  arose  and 
came  to  them,  saying,  "  Fair  youths,  may  God  be  your 
help ! " 

"  God  bless  you  1 "  answered  one  who  was  more  ready 
of  tongue  than  the  rest,  for  they  were  dumb  with 
astonishment. 

"Fair  youths,"  said  she,  "do  you  know  Aucassin,  son 
of  Count  Garin  of  Beaucaire  ?  " 

"  Yes,  well  do  we  know  him,"  said  they. 

"  Then  go,  in  God's  name,"  said  she  very  earnestly, 
"and  tell  him  there  is  a  beast  in  this  forest  that  he 
should  come  and  chase;  and  tell  him  that  if  he  could  take 
it,  he  would  not  give  one  of  its  limbs  for  one  hundred 
gold  sovereigns,  nor  for  five  hundred,  nor  for  any 
money." 

As  she  said  these  words  all  the  boys  looked  hard  at 
her  and  were  filled  with  wonder  at  her  beauty.  At 
length  their  spokesman  exclaimed,  "  I  tell  him  such  a 
thing?  Not  I  indeed,  for  there  is  not  a  word  of  truth 
in  what  you  say.  There  is  not  a  beast  of  any  value  in 
the  forest,  not  one  whose  limbs  are  worth  more  than 
two  or  three  pence  at  the  most.  But  we  see  that  you 
are  a  fairy,  and  may  be  a  wicked  one.  Go  your  way, 
therefore,  since  we  have  no  liking  for  your  company." 

"  Ah,  fair  youth ! "  she  cried  ;  "  know  you  not  that 
Aucassin  has  a  deadly  hurt,  from  which  he  never  will 
be  cured  till  he  find  this  beast  ?  Here  have  I  five 
pennies  in  my  purse ;  take  them  and  tell  him  that  he 
must  chase  the  creature  and  take  it  within  three  days, 
or  he  will  never  be  cured  of  his  hurt." 

"  Faith,"  said  he,  "  we  will  take  the  pennies,  and  if  he 
come  here,  we  will  tell  him  ;  but  we  will  never  go  to 
seek  him." 


THE  STORY  OF  AUCASSIN  AND  NICOLETTE     9 

"  As  God  wills  ! "  replied  Nicolette  meekly,  and  taking 
her  leave  of  the  herd-boys,  she  passed  on  her  way. 

Through  the  wood  she  went  by  an  ancient  pathway 
that  wound  among  the  trees,  until  she  came  to  a  place 
where  seven  roads  lay  in  seven  different  directions. 
And  as  she  knew  not  which  way  to  go,  she  determined 
to  stay  awhile  that  she  might  make  sure  whether 
Aucassin  really  were  true  to  her.  So  she  took  oaken 
saplings  and  twisted  them  together  with  green  leaves 
interlaced,  and  made  and  decked  with  flowers  a  fair 
bower  in  that  spot,  saying,  "  If  Aucassin  should  ride 
past  this  bower  and  not  tarry  and  rest  awhile  for  his 
love's  sake,  he  shall  never  be  my  true  lover." 

Then  she  hid  herself  near  the  bower  in  a  thick  bush 
to  see  what  Aucassin  would  do. 

Meantime  the  report  had  spread  through  all  the  land 
that  Nicolette  was  lost.  Some  said  she  had  run  away 
and  others  that  Count  Garin  had  done  her  to  death. 

Then  Count  Garin  ordered  that  Aucassin  his  son 
should  be  taken  out  of  prison  ;  and  he  sent  for  the 
knights  of  the  land  and  the  damsels  of  noble  birth, 
and  made  a  very  fine  feast  wherewith  to  comfort  the 
unhappy  youth,  who  now  believed  that  he  should  never 
see  fair  Nicolette  again. 

When  the  banquet  was  at  its  height,  Aucassin 
managed  to  slip  away  through  the  window  on  to  a 
balcony,  and  there  he  leaned  upon  the  rail,  all  bowed 
down  with  woe.  Suddenly  a  strange  knight,  who  had 
been  watching  him  for  some  time,  came  out  and  spoke 
to  him  and  said,  "  Aucassin,  of  the  same  hurt  that  you 
have  I  have  myself  been  wounded.  And  now,  if  you 
will  trust  me,  I  will  give  you  good  counsel." 

"Sir,  much  thanks!"  said  Aucassin.  "For  good 
counsel  I  would  be  greatly  beholden  to  you." 

"  Then  mount  horse,"  said  he,  "  and  go  along  the 
edge  of  the  forest  to  amuse  yourself;  and  you  will  see 
the  flowers  and  the  grass  and  will  hear  the  little  birds 


10      STORIES   FROxM   OLD   FRENCH   ROMANCE 

sing.  Perhaps  there  you  may  also  hear  a  word  of 
which  you  will  be  the  better." 

"  Sir,"  said  Aucassin,  "  I  thank  you,  and  I  will 
do  it." 

So  he  stole  away  from  the  hall  and  passed  down  the 
stairs  and  into  the  stable  where  stood  his  horse.  Saddle 
and  bridle  he  put  on,  and  set  foot  in  stirrup  and 
mounted  and  came  out  from  the  castle.  On  he  went 
till  he  came  to  the  spring,  and  there  he  found  the  herd- 
boys  about  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon';  and  they  had 
spread  a  cloak  on  the  grass  and  were  eating  their 
bread  with  very  great  mirth.  And  as  they  ate  they 
sang  this  song — 

"  God  give  Aucassin  his  aid 
And  that  Httle  dainty  maid, 
She  that  hath  the  golden  hair, 
Eyes  so  clear  and  face  so  fair, 
She  who  gave  us  pennies  bright 
Which  shall  buy  us  cakes  to-night, 
Knives  with  sheaths  and  whistles  clear, 
Little  clubs  and  flutes  to  cheer. 
Also  little  pipes  that  squeal — 

May  God  him  heal !  " 

When  Aucassin  heard  this  song  he  thought  at  once 
of  his  sweet  friend  Nicolette  and  wondered  if  she  had 
been  there. 

"  Fair  youths,"  said  he,  "  sing  again  the  song  you  sang 
just  now." 

"  We  will  not  sing  it,"  said  he  who  was  more  ready  of 
tongue  than  the  rest.  "  Sorrow  be  to  him  who  shall  sing 
it  to  you,  fair  sir  ! " 

"  Do  you  not  know  me,  boy?"  said  Aucassin;  and 
the  other,  who  was  a  teasing  wag,  replied,  "  Yes,  we 
know  well  that  you  are  Aucassin,  our  young  lord,  but 
we  are  not  yours,  but  the  Count's." 

"  Fair  youths,  you  will  do  so,  I  pray  you." 

"  Why  indeed  should  I  sing  for  you  if  it  does  not  suit 
me  ?  "  asked  the  lad  pertly. 


THE  STORY  OF  AUCASSIN  AND  NICOLETTE  11 

"  Surely  you  will,"  cried  Aucassin, "  if  I  give  you  these 
ten  pennies." 

"  Sir,"  replied  the  boy,  rising  with  a  bow  of  mock 
politeness,  "  we  will  take  your  money,  but  we  will  not 
sing  for  you,  for  we  have  sworn  it.  But  I  will  tell  it  to 
you  if  you  like." 

"  Well,"  said  Aucassin,  "  I  would  like  it  told  better 
than  have  nothing," 

"  Sir,"  said  the  boy,  "  we  were  here  quite  lately 
between  six  and  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  we 
were  eating  our  bread  beside  this  very  spring ;  and 
there  came  out  to  us  a  maiden,  the  fairest  thing  in  the 
world,  so  that  we  thought  she  was  a  fairy  and  that  she 
ruled  over  all  this  wood.  She  gave  us  money,  and  we 
made  agreement  with  her  that,  if  you  came  here,  we 
would  tell  you  that  you  should  go  hunt  in  this  forest  ; 
that  there  was  a  beast  therein  so  precious  that  you  would 
not  give  one  of  its  limbs  for  any  money,  for  the  beast 
has  such  a  remedy  that  if  yOu  can  take  it,  you  will  be  cured 
of  your  wounds.  But  you  must  catch  it  within  three 
days  or  else  never  more  shall  you  see  it.  Now  chase  it 
if  you  choose,  or  leave  it  if  you  choose,  for  I  have  done 
all  I  promised  her." 

"  Fair  youth,"  said  Aucassin,  "  you  have  said  enough. 
JMay  God  grant  I  find  this  beast." 

Then  Aucassin  hastened  within  the  forest,  and  his 
charger  bore  him  at  a  great  pace  from  path  to  path. 
The  brambles  tore  him  so  that  the  blood  poured  forth 
in  many  places,  and  one  could  have  traced  his  path  by 
the  red  drops  that  fell  on  the  grass.  But  he  thought  so 
much  of  Nicolette,  his  sweet  friend,  that  he  felt  neither 
paJn  nor  wound. 

All  day  he  went  through  the  forest  without  ever 
having  news  of  her,  and  when  he  saw  that  evening  drew 
near,  he  began  to  weep  because  he  had  not  found 
her. 

Then,  as  he  rode  along  an  ancient  grassy  way,  he 


12      STORIES   FROM   OLD   FRENCH    ROMANCE 

saw  before  him  in  the  middle  of  the  path  a  youth  of 
very  strange  appearance.  He  was  big  and  very  ugly ; 
his  large  head  was  blacker  than  a  coal,  and  there  was 
more  than  a  hand's-breadth  between  his  two  eyes;  he  had 
great  cheeks,  and  a  very  big,  flat  nose,  wide  nostrils,  and 
thick  lips,  with  very  large  yellow  teeth.  He  wore 
leggings  and  shoes  of  ox-hide  bound  by  strips  of  bark 
over  the  knee  ;  his  cloak  was  of  rough  untanned  leather, 
and  he  was  leaning  upon  a  big  club. 

To  him  Aucassin  hastened,  but  when  he  looked  on 
him  he  had  great  fear. 

"  Fair  brother,"  he  said,  "  good  even  to  you  ! " 

"  God  bless  you  ! "  growled  the  other. 

"  What  do  you  here?"  asked  Aucassin. 

"  What  does  it  matter  to  you  ? "  replied  the  other. 

"  Nothing  at  all ;  I  only  ask  you  in  friendly  wise." 

"But  why  do  you  weep?"  asked  the  other  curiously. 
"  Sure,  if  I  were  as  rich  a  man  as  you  are,  all  the  world 
would  not  make  me  weep." 

"Why,  do  you  know  me?"  cried  Aucassin. 

"  Yes,  I  know  well  that  you  are  Aucassin,  the  son  of 
the  Count;  and  if  you  tell  me  why  you  weep,  I  will 
tell  you  what  I  do  here." 

"  Surely,"  said  Aucassin,  "  I  will  gladly  tell  you.  1 
came  this  morning  to  hunt  in  this  forest,  for  I  had  a 
white  deerhound,  the  most  beautiful  in  this  world,  and 
I  have  lost  it ;  for  this  I  weep." 

"  What  I"  cried  the  youth.  "  You  weep  for  a  wretched 
dog !  Black  sorrow  be  his  who  pities  you,  seeing  that 
there  is  not  a  rich  man  in  this  land  who,  if  your  father 
asked  of  him  twenty  dogs,  would  not  send  them  very 
willingly,  and  be  glad  to  do  it.  But  it  is  I  who  ought 
to  weep  and  lament." 

"And  for  what,  brother?" 

"  Sir,  I  will  tell  you.  I  was  hired  by  a  rich  farmer 
to  drive  his  plough,  and  he  had  four  oxen.  Now,  three 
days  ago  I  happened  by  great  misfortune  to  lose  the 


THE  STORY  OF  AUCASSIN  AND  NICOLETTE  13 

best  of  my  oxen,  and  I  go  seeking  him.  And  I  have 
neither  eaten  nor  drunk  for  three  days  past,  for  I  dare 
not  go  back  to  the  town,  lest  the  farmer  put  me  in 
prison,  since  I  have  not  wherewithal  to  pay  him.  Of 
all  the  wealth  in  the  world  I  have  nothing  but  what 
you  see  upon  me.  A  poor  old  mother  I  have,  and  she 
had  nothing  but  a  wretched  mattress;  and  that  the 
farmer  dragged  away  from  under  her,  so  that  she  now 
lies  on  the  bare  straw ;  and  for  her  I  grieve  much  more 
than  for  myself 

"  For  money  goes  and  comes  ;  what  I  have  lost  now 
I  shall  gain  another  time,  and  I  shall  pay  for  my  ox 
when  I  can ;  I  shall  never  weep  for  that.  But  you 
weep  for  a  wretched  dog !  Black  sorrow  be  to  him 
who  shall  pity  you  for  it ! " 

"Surely,"  cried  Aucassin,  "you  are  a  good  comforter, 
brother  !     What  was  your  ox  worth  ?  " 

"  Sir,  twenty  shillings  they  ask  me  for  it — no  less." 

"  Now  take  twenty  that  I  have  here  in  my  purse  and 
pay  for  your  ox,"  said  Aucassin. 

"  Sir,"  he  replied,  "  much  thanks  1  And  may  God  let 
you  find  that  which  you  seek." 

He  parted  from  him  and  Aucassin  rode  on.  The 
night  was  beautiful  and  very  still,  and  he  wandered  on 
until  he  came  to  the  place  where  the  seven  ways  forked; 
and  there  he  looked  before  him  and  saw  the  fair  bower 
that  Nicolette  had  made. 

With  flowers  she  had  decked  it  without  and  within, 
and  it  was  the  most  beautiful  ever  seen  as  it  lay  in  the 
clear  moonlight. 

"  Ah  ! "  cried  the  boy,  "  Nicolette,  my  sweet  friend, 
has  been  here,  and  has  made  this  with  her  own  fair 
hands.  For  her  sweet  sake  I  will  now  dismount,  and 
will  rest  therein  for  the  remainder  of  the  night." 

So  he  took  his  foot  out  of  the  stirrup  to  come  down, 
and  the  horse  was  big  and  tall.  Weary  as  he  was,  and 
with  his  mind  full  of  Nicolette.  his  most  sweet  friend, 


14      STORIES   FROM   OLD  FRENCH   ROMANCE 

he  let  himself  slip,  and  fell  on  a  stone  so  hard  that  he 
put  his  shoulder  out  of  place. 

Hurt  as  he  was,  he  did  the  best  he  could,  tied  his 
horse  with  the  other  hand  to  a  thorn  tree,  and  crawled 
into  the  bower. 

Then  he  looked  through  an  opening  in  the  bower 
and  saw  the  stars  in  the  sky,  and  one  among  them 
brighter  than  all  the  rest.  And  he  began  to  sing  this 
song — 

"Thou  star  that  shinest  clear  on  high, 
The  moon  doth  strive  to  draw  thee  nigh  ; 
My  Kicolette  is  with  thee  there, 
My  Httle  love  with  golden  hair." 

When  Nicolette  heard  these  words  she  came  running 
to  him,  for  she  was  not  far  away,  and  clasped  him  in 
her  arms,  crying,  "  Fair,  sweet  friend,  how  you  are 
welcome ! " 

And  he  answered  with  joy,  "  Fair,  sweet  friend,  well 
found  ! " 

Then  they  embraced  all  over  again,  and  great  was 
their  happiness. 

"  It  was  but  now,"  said  Aucassin,  "  that  I  was  much 
hurt  in  the  shoulder,  but  I  feel  neither  pain  nor  grief 
since  I  have  you." 

Then  she  felt  him  about  and  soon  found  that  his 
shoulder  was  out  of  place ;  and  she  handled  it  with  her 
skilful  fingers,  and  so  pulled  it  that,  as  God  willed,  who 
loves  all  true  lovers,  it  came  back  to  its  place.  And 
then  she  took  some  flowers  and  some  fresh  grass  and 
green  leaves  and  tied  it  up  with  a  bit  of  her  petticoat, 
and  he  was  soon  quite  cured. 

"  Now,  Aucassin,"  said  she,  "  take  thought  for  to- 
morrow. For  if  your  father  has  the  forest  searched  in 
the  morning,  and  I  am  found,  whatever  may  happen  to 
you,  I  shall  be  put  to  death." 

"  Nay,  sweet  friend,  for  I  will  never  let  them  take 
you,"  cried  Aucassin,  and  at  once  he  mounted  his  horse, 


THE  STORY  OF  AUCASSIN  AND  NICOLETTE  15 

took   his   true   love  in  front  of  him,  and  so  set   out 
towards  the  open  fields. 

They  pass  the  hills,  they  pass  the  downs, 
They  pass  the  villages  and  towns, 
They  come  at  daybreak  to  the  strand, 
And  there  alighting  on  the  sand, 
They  doubtful  stand. 


CHAPTER   III 
THEIR   ADVENTURE   ACROSS   THE   SEA 

NOW  as  Aucassin  and  Nicolette  were  wandering 
along  the  shore,  they  saw  a  vessel  with  merchants 
aboard  passing  very  near  the  land. 

He  beckoned  to  them,  and  they  came  to  him  and 
were  persuaded  to  take  them  on  board  the  vessel.  But 
when  they  were  upon  the  high  seas  a  great  and  terrible 
storm  uprose,  which  drove  them  from  land  to  land  until 
they  reached  a  strange  country  and  entered  the  gates  of 
the  Castle  of  Torylory. 

Then  they  asked  whose  land  it  was,  and  they  told 
them  that  it  all  belonged  to  the  King  of  Torylory.  So 
they  asked  what  manner  of  man  he  was  and  if  he  made 
any  war,  and  they  said,  "  Yes,  and  a  mighty  war  too." 

So  Aucassin  took  leave  of  the  merchants,  mounted 
his  horse,  girded  on  his  sword,  took  his  true  love  before 
him,  and  went  along  until  he  came  within  the  castle 
walls. 

He  asked  where  the  King  was,  and  they  told  him  that 
he  sat  within  the  bower  working  a  fair  piece  of  tapestry. 
"  Where  then  is  his  wife  ? "  asked  Aucassin,  and  they 
answered  that  she,  with  all  the  other  people  in  the  land, 
was  with  the  army. 

Thereat  they  marvelled  greatly  and  dismounted  from 
the  horse,  and  while  Nicolette  held  the  bridle,  Aucassin 


16     STORIES  FROM  OLD  FRENCH  RON^ANCE 

went  upstairs  to  the  bower  where  the  King  lay  stretched 
upon  a  settle  at  his  ease.  Then  was  Aucassin  very 
wroth  ;  he  called  the  King  ill  words,  and  taking  a 
stick,  he  beat  him  until  he  swore  that  he  would  never 
again  sit  at  ease  while  his  wife  went  forth  to  the  war. 
When  he  had  thus  sworn,  Aucassin  said,  "  Now,  sir, 
lead  me  to  the  place  where  your  wife  is  with  the  army." 
So  the  King  and  Aucassin  mounted  their  horses,  but 
Nicolette  stayed  in  the  chamber  of  the  Queen. 

Now  when  they  came  to  the  battlefield,  Aucassin 
found  that  the  weapons  wherewith  the  soldiers  fought 
were  roasted  crab-apples,  and  eggs,  and  fresh  cheeses. 

He  halted  therefore,  greatly  wondering,  and  staring 
at  this  strange  warfare.  "  Sir,"  said  he  at  length  to  the 
King,  "are  these  your  enemies?" 

"  Yes,  that  they  be,"  said  he. 

"  And  would  you  have  me  avenge  you  upon  them  ?  " 

"  Yes,  gladly,"  replied  the  King. 

So  Aucassin  set  his  hand  to  his  sword  and  rushed 
among  them  and  began  to  strike  right  and  left,  killing 
many  of  them. 

But  when  the  King  saw  this  he  caught  him  by  the 
bridle  saying,  "  Stay,  fair  sir,  do  not  kill  them  utterly." 

"  What ! "  said  Aucassin,  "  do  you  not  wish  that  I 
avenge  you  ?  " 

"  Sir,"  said  the  King,  "  you  have  done  too  much  al- 
ready. It  is  not  the  custom  that  we  should  kill  one 
another." 

By  this  time  the  foe  had  turned  and  fled  ;  and  the 
King  and  Aucassin  returned  to  the  Castle  of  Torylory. 

Now  after  a  while  the  people  of  the  land  became  so 
fond  of  Nicolette  that  they  bade  the  King  drive  Aucassin 
out  of  the  country  and  keep  her  for  his  heir,  for  they 
said  they  were  certain  she  was  of  very  noble  birth. 

But  of  this  Nicolette  would  hear  not  a  word,  being 
well  content  to  wait  upon  the  Queen  so  long  as  she  might 
see  her  true  love  Aucassin  and  speak  to  him  at  times. 


THE  STORY  OF  AUCASSIN  AND  NICOLETTE  17 

After  they  had  lived  for  some  time  in  peace  and 
happiness  at  the  Castle  of  Torylory,  there  came  one  day 
a  fleet  of  Saracens  from  over  the  sea  and  attacked  the 
castle  and  took  it  by  storm.  They  carried  away  all  the 
booty,  and  many  of  the  men  and  women  to  be  their 
slaves.  Nicolette  and  Aucassin  they  took  and  bound 
hand  and  foot,  flinging  him  into  one  vessel  and  Nicolette 
into  another.  Nor  was  that  the  end  of  their  ill-fortune, 
for  a  storm  arose  which  parted  the  vessels  widely  from 
one  another. 

The  ship  in  which  Aucassin  found  himself  drifted  so 
far  over  the  sea  that  it  came  at  length  to  the  castle  of 
Beaucaire  and  lay  a  wreck  upon  that  coast.  And  the 
people  of  that  country  ran  to  the  wreck,  and  rejoiced 
greatly  to  find  Aucassin,  their  young  lord,  therein.  For 
his  parents  had  died  during  his  long  absence  and  he 
was  now  their  Count ;  so  they  took  him  to  the  castle 
and  all  became  his  men,  and  he  held  the  land  in  peace. 
But  his  heart  was  heavy  day  and  night  for  love  and 
sorrow  for  Nicolette,  his  sweet  friend,  saying — 

"True  love,  maid  of  sunny  face, 
Now  I  cannot  guess  thy  place  ; 
God  never  made  that  kingdom  yet, 
No  land,  no  ocean  hath  he  set. 
But  I  would  search  it  if  so  be 

I  might  find  thee." 

Meantime  it  so  happened  that  the  ship  in  which  Nico- 
lette lay  belonged  to  the  King  of  Carthage  and  his 
twelve  sons;  but  she  knew  it  not.  When  they  saw  how 
very  fair  was  the  maiden,  they  treated  her  with  great 
honour ;  and  often  they  asked  her  who  she  was,  for 
they  were  sure  that  she  was  a  very  noble  lady  and  of 
high  lineage.  But  she  could  not  tell  them  anything  save 
that  she  had  been  carried  away  from  home  as  a  little 
child.  "  Yet,"  she  said,  "  I  was  not  so  young  but  that  if 
I  saw  my  country  again  I  should  know  at  once  whether 
it  was  my  home  or  not." 

2 


18      STORIES  FROM   OLD  FRENCH   ROMANCE 

So  on  they  sailed  till  they  came  to  the  city  of  Carth- 
age; and  when  Nicolette  saw  the  walls  of  the  castle  and 
the  country  round,  she  remembered  at  once  that  it  was 
her  birthplace,  from  which  she  had  been  carried  away, 
and  she  described  the  castle  of  the  King  and  the  rooms 
in  which  she  had  been  brought  up  and  the  woman  who 
had  tended  her.  And  she  began  to  lament,  saying, 
"Woe  is  me  that  was  born  daughter  to  the  King  of 
Carthage  and  cousin  of  the  Sultan,  who  now  am  the 
captive  of  a  savage  tribe.  Oh,  would  I  might  see 
Aucassin  again  and  be  delivered  by  him  ! " 

When  the  King  of  Carthage  heard  her  speak  thus,  he 
drew  her  near  to  him  and  said  very  kindly,  "  Sweet 
friend,  tell  me  who  you  are  and  do  not  be  afraid  of  me." 

"  Sir,"  said  she,  "  I  am  daughter  of  the  King  of 
Carthage,  and  I  was  carried  away  as  a  little  child,  just 
fifteen  years  ago." 

When  he  heard  her  speak  thus,  he  knew  in  truth  that 
she  was  his  long-lost  daughter ;  and  they  all  made  very 
great  joy  over  her,  and  took  her  to  the  palace  with  very 
great  honour  as  the  daughter  of  the  King.  Very  soon 
they  wished  to  marry  her  to  a  great  Saracen  chieftain  ; 
but  she  only  thought  by  what  means  she  could  find 
Aucassin.  Then  finding  that  they  would  not  let  her  be, 
she  took  her  viol  and  stole  away  one  night  till  she  came 
to  the  seaport  town,  where  she  lodged  at  the  house  of  a 
poor  woman  on  the  shore. 

Then  she  took  a  herb  and  smeared  her  head  and  her 
face  until  she  was  all  stained  dark.  She  next  had  a 
coat  and  a  cloak  and  shirt  and  breeches  made,  and 
dressed  herself  in  fashion  of  a  minstrel  boy.  Then  she 
took  her  viol  and  persuaded  a  seaman  to  take  her  on 
board  his  vessel,  and  they  sailed  far  over  the  high  seas 
till  they  came  to  the  land  of  Provence. 

There  Nicolette  left  the  ship  and  took  her  viol  and 
went  playing  through  the  country  until  she  came  to  the 
castle  of  Beaucaire  where  Aucassin  dwelt. 


THE  STORY  OF  AUCASSIN  AND  NICOLETTE  19 

Now  Aucassin  sat  one  day  upon  a  balcony  beneath 
the  tower  of  Beaucaire  with  all  his  barons  around 
him  ;  and  he  saw  the  grass  and  flowers  around  him  and 
heard  the  little  birds  sing.  But  his  heart  was  heavy, 
for  he  could  think  of  nothing  but  Nicolette,  the  kind 
and  brave,  whom  he  had  loved  so  long  and  well. 

Suddenly  a  minstrel  youth  appeared  below,  who 
touched  the  strings  of  his  viol  and  thus  began  to  sing — 

"  Listen,  noble  lords,  to  me, 
Ye  of  high  and  low  degree, 
An  ye  care  to  hear  a  stave 
Tell  of  Nicolette  the  brave 
And  of  Aucassin  the  true  ; 
Loving  bonds  between  them  grew. 
He  sought  her  in  forest  deep, 
Then  from  Torylory's  keep 
Paynims  bore  them  both  away. 
Of  Aucassin  I  nothing  say. 
But  Nicolette,  the  brave  and  true, 
Doth  in  Carthage  live  anew  ; 
There  her  father,  who  is  King, 
Loves  her  more  than  anything. 
They  wish  that  slie  shall  marry  yet 
A  king  not  loved  of  Nicolette  ; 
She  loveth  only  one  young  knight, 
He  who  Aucassin  is  hight ; 
In  the  name  of  Heaven  she  swore 
Ne'er  will  she  have  lover  more. 
If  she  may  not  find  that  lord 
By  her  adored." 

When  Aucassin  heard  this  song  he  sprang  from  his 
seat,  and  taking  the  minstrel  aside  said,  "  Fair  sweet 
friend,  do  you  know  anything  of  this  Nicolette  of 
whom  you  have  sung  ?  " 

"  Sir,  yes ;  I  know  she  is  the  truest  maiden  and  the 
most  gentle  and  wise  that  ever  was  born.  She  is 
daughter  of  the  King  of  Carthage,  who  took  her  prisoner 
when  Aucassin  was  taken,  and  brought  her  to  the  city 
of  Carthage,  until  he  discovered  that  she  was  his  very 
own  daughter.  Then  he  made  great  joy  over  her,  and 
wished  every  day  to  give  her  for  husband  one  of  the 


20     STORIES  FROM   OLD  FRENCH   ROMANCE 

greatest  kings  in  Spain ;  but  she  would  sooner  be 
hanged  or  burnt  than  marry  such  an  one,  however  rich 
he  was." 

"  Ah,  fair  friend,"  cried  Count  Aucassin,  "  if  you  will 
return  to  that  country  and  tell  her  to  come  to  speak 
to  me,  I  will  give  you  as  much  of  my  money  as  ever 
you  care  to  ask.  For  I  will  not  take  a  wife,  however 
high  is  her  birth,  but  I  wait  for  her ;  and  never  will  I 
marry  at  all  if  I  may  not  have  her.  If  I  had  but 
known  where  to  find  her,  I  should  not  have  to  seek  her 
now." 

"  Sir,"  said  the  minstrel,  "  if  you  will  do  this,  I  will 
go  to  seek  her  for  your  sake  and  for  hers,  whom  I  love 
much." 

This  he  vowed  to  the  minstrel  and  put  money  in  his 
hands,  and  when  he  turned  away  he  wept.  Then  was 
the  heart  of  her  who  seemed  a  minstrel  softened,  and 
she  said,  "  Sir,  be  not  dismayed,  since  in  a  little  while 
I  shall  have  brought  her  to  you  in  this  town  and  you 
shall  see  her." 

So  she  left  him  and  went  to  the  house  of  the  Vis- 
countess, where  she  had  been  brought  up ;  for  the 
Viscount,  her  godfather,  was  dead.  There  she  revealed 
herself  and  told  all  her  story ;  and  the  Viscountess 
received  her  with  joy,  and  made  her  bathe  and  rest  for 
eight  whole  days.  Then  she  rubbed  her  with  a  certain 
herb,  which  made  her  as  fair  as  ever  she  had  been,  and 
dressed  her  in  rich  silk  cloth ;  and  she  sat  down  in  the 
chamber  on  a  quilted  coverlet  of  silk,  and  called  the 
Viscountess  and  asked  her  to  go  for  Aucassin  her  love. 

This  she  did,  and  when  she  came  to  the  palace,  she 
found  Aucassin  weeping  and  grieving  for  Nicolette  his 
love,  because  she  delayed  so  long.  Then  the  lady 
called  him  and  said  to  him,  "Aucassin,  lament  no  more, 
but  come  with  me,  and  I  will  show  you  the  thing  you 
love  most  in  the  world ;  for  it  is  Nicolette,  your  sweet 
friend,  who  has  come  from  a  far  country  to  find  you." 


THE  STORY  OF  AUCASSIN  AND  NICOLETTE  21 

Thereat  Aucassin  made  no  further  stay,  but  ran  to 
the  chamber  where  Nicolette  was  awaiting  him ;  and 
then  were  both  of  them  happy  indeed. 

And  on  the  morrow  Aucassin  married  his  sweet 
maiden  and  made  her  lady  of  Beaucaire,  where  they 
lived  many  years  in  delight  and  happiness. 

So  endeth  the  story  of  Aucassin  and  Nicolette. 

The  verse  quotations  in  this  story  are  from  the  translation  of  M.  S. 
Henry. 


THE   SECOND   STORY 

THE   STORY  OF   CONSTANS   THE 
EMPEROR 

(From  the  Dit  de  V Empereur  Constant) 

ONCE  upon  a  time  there  lived  a  certain  Emperor 
whose  name  was  Musselin  ;  and  he  ruled  over 
the  city  of  Byzantium,  which  is  now  called  Con- 
stantinople. 

Now  this  Emperor  was  learned  in  the  science  of  the 
moon  and  the  planets  and  the  stars  ;  and  he  knew  much 
of  sorcery  and  of  witchcraft,  as  did  most  of  the  pagans 
of  that  day.  And  it  came  to  pass  one  clear  moonlight 
night  that  he  went  forth,  with  a  single  knight  for 
company,  through  the  midst  of  the  city;  and  as  he 
passed  along,  he  heard  the  voice  of  a  man  on  a  high 
tower  praising  God  aloud,  because  a  child  had  been 
born  to  him  at  that  particular  hour. 

Then  the  Emperor  and  the  Knight  went  in  unto  the 
man,  and  asked  him  why  he  praised  God  with  such 
exceeding  joy  for  that  the  child  had  been  born  at  that 
particular  time.  And  the  man  bowed  low  to  them  and 
answered  (not  knowing  who  they  were),  "  Sir,  I  am  a 
man  learned  in  the  course  of  the  stars  and  of  the 
planets,  and  I  feared  that  if  my  child  had  been  born 
an  hour  ago  he  must  needs  be  burned  or  drowned  or 
hanged ;  for  so  was  it  written  in  the  sky.  But  now 
that  he  is  born  at  this  particular  time,  I  know  that  all 
is  well  with  him ;  and  for  that  reason  I  praise  God." 

"  But  how  is  it  well  with  him  ?  "  asked  the  Emperor ; 
and  the  man  answered,  "  Know,  sir,  that  the  boy  just 
born  shall  one  day  marry  the  daughter  of  the  Emperor 
of  this  city,  who  was  born  a  week  ago;  and  in  good 

22 


STORY  OF  CONSTANS  THE  EMPEROR        23 

time  he  shall  be  Emperor  of  this  place  and  lord  of  all 
the  earth." 

"  Fellow,"  said  the  Emperor,  "  this  can  never  come  to 
pass." 

"  Sir,"  replied  the  man,  "  it  is  written  in  the  stars  that 
thus  it  shall  be." 

Then  was  the  Emperor  very  wroth,  though  he  made 
no  sign,  and  departed  thence  with  the  Knight.  But 
when  he  reached  the  street  he  bade  the  Knight  pass 
in  secretly  to  the  man's  house  and  bring  the  child  to 
him.  And  the  Knight  passed  in  secretly,  and  finding 
the  babe  lying,  wrapped  in  linen  clothes,  upon  a  chair, 
he  took  him  and  put  him  on  a  board  and  brought  him 
to  the  Emperor  without  being  seen  by  any  man. 

Whereupon  the  Emperor  took  his  knife  and  gashed 
the  child's  breast,  saying  that  this  peasant's  son  should 
never  marry  his  daughter,  nor  come  to  rule  after  him. 
But  when  he  would  next  have  killed  him  outright,  the 
Knight  intervened,  saying,  "  Sire,  it  is  not  meet  that 
you  should  do  this  thing ;  and  if  it  came  to  men's 
knowledge  it  would  bring  shame  on  you.  Let  the  babe 
be,  for  he  is  dead  already  ;  but  if  you  will  make  sure 
without  more  bloodshed,  I  will  carry  him  down  and 
drown  him  in  the  sea." 

"  Do  so,"  said  the  Emperor,  "  for  I  hate  him  with  all 
my  heart." 

So  the  Knight  took  the  child  and  wrapped  him  in  a 
silken  kerchief  and  carried  him  down  to  the  shore ;  but 
on  the  way  his  heart  was  touched  with  pity.  Now  it 
so  happened  that  he  had  to  pass  by  the  gate  of  a 
certain  abbey,  in  the  church  of  which  the  monks  were 
singing  their  matins ;  and  the  Knight,  when  he  heard 
them  sing,  placed  the  child  on  a  heap  of  rubbish  before 
the  gates  and  left  him  there. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  monks  had  left  their  sing- 
ing and  had  heard  the  crying  of  the  babe ,  and  one  of 
them  went  out  cind  brought  him  in  to  the  Abbot.     And 


24     STORIES   FROM   OLD   FRENCH   ROMANCE 

when  the  Abbot  saw  that  he  was  a  fair  babe,  and  had 
been  cruelly  ill-treated,  he  sent  for  doctors  to  heal  him, 
and  declared  that  he  should  be  brought  up  within  the 
abbey.  And  because  the  surgeons  required  a  large  sum 
of  money  to  heal  the  child,  he  was  christened  Co(n)stans, 
because  it  cost  the  abbey  many  coins  before  he  could 
be  healed. 

Now  the  little  Constans  speedily  grew  in  health  and 
beauty,  so  that  every  one  said  he  must  have  come  of 
high  kindred  and  would  win  great  renown.  When  he 
was  seven  years  old  he  went  to  school,  where  he  soon 
became  a  fine  scholar ;  and  when  he  was  twelve,  he 
was  so  clever  and  so  fair  to  look  upon,  that  the  Abbot 
chose  him  to  ride  behind  him  as  his  page.  After  that 
time  it  came  about  that  the  Abbot  wished  to  speak 
with  the  Emperor  concerning  a  wrong  which  had  been 
done  to  the  abbey  by  some  of  his  followers.  So  he 
sent  him  a  noble  gift  and  asked  leave  to  visit  him  at 
his  castle,  some  miles  away ;  and  to  this  the  Emperor 
agreed. 

Then  the  Abbot  rode  forth  with  his  train  of  followers, 
and  close  beside  him  rode  the  boy  Constans ;  and  when 
he  reached  the  castle,  the  boy  drew  near  to  him  to  hold 
his  hat  in  the  presence  of  the  Emperor.  But  when  the 
latter  saw  the  lad,  and  marked  how  fair  and  gentle  he 
was,  he  could  not  take  his  eyes  off  him,  and  began  at  once 
to  ask  the  Abbot  who  he  was  and  whence  he  came. 

"  All  I  can  tell  of  him,"  replied  the  Abbot,  "  is  that 
nearly  fifteen  years  since,  our  monks  heard  the  voice  of 
a  crying  child  as  they  came  out  from  their  matins ; 
and  when  they  brought  him  to  me  I  saw  that  he  was 
fair,  and  gave  orders  that  he  should  be  nourished. 

"  But  when  I  unwrapped  him,  I  saw  that  he  had  been 
cruelly  mistreated  ;  for  his  breast  had  been  gashed  with 
a  knife,  and  the  mark  of  it  remains  unto  this  day." 

Then  the  Emperor  knew  at  once  that  it  was  the 
child  he  had  tried  to  kill,  and  he  eagerly   asked  the 


STORY  OF  CONSTANS  THE  EMPEROR        25 

Abbot  to  give  him  the  lad.  The  Abbot  replied  that 
he  could  not  do  this  without  the  consent  of  his  monks, 
and,  returning  to  the  abbey,  told  them  of  the  Emperor's 
wish.  They,  however,  being  in  great  fear  of  the  Em- 
peror's anger  against  them,  desired  him  to  send  the 
boy  to  the  Court  at  once ;  and  so  Constans  was  sent 
away  in  haste  to  the  Emperor. 

Now  the  Emperor  was  glad  to  get  the  boy,  for  he 
hated  him  very  sorely,  and  was  determined  that  he 
should  not  escape  him  a  second  time.  But  he  was  very 
anxious  that  none  should  know  of  his  evil  intention, 
and  so  went  warily  to  work. 

It  happened  at  that  time  that  the  Emperor  had 
business  on  the  borders  of  his  land,  about  twelve  days' 
journey  from  Byzantium ;  and  he  departed  thither, 
taking  the  boy  Constans  with  him.  And  after  he  had 
taken  much  thought  as  to  how  he  should  put  an  end  to 
the  lad,  he  sat  him  down  and  wrote  as  follows  : — 

"  I,  Emperor  of  Byzantium  and  Lord  of  Greece,  give 
this  clear  command  to  the  officer  whom  I  have  left  in 
my  place  for  the  guarding  of  my  land ;  that  so  soon  as 
thou  seest  this  letter,  thou  shalt  slay  or  cause  to  be 
slain  him  who  shall  bear  this  letter  to  thee,  directly  he 
has  given  it  into  thy  hands.  See  that  my  commands 
are  obeyed,  as  thou  valuest  thine  head." 

Forthwith  he  gave  the  letter  into  the  hands  of  the 
fair  child  Constans,  and  the  lad  set  off,  little  knowing 
that  he  was  bearing  his  own  death-warrant. 

Hastening  on  his  way,  the  boy  reached  the  city  in 
less  than  fifteen  days ;  and  as  it  happened,  the  time 
that  he  arrived  was  the  hour  of  dinner.  So  he  desired 
to  wait  until  the  folk  had  finished  their  meal,  and  mean- 
time, because  the  sun  was  very  hot,  he  rode  into  a  long 
garden,  where  there  was  shade  on  the  green  grass,  un- 
bridled his  horse  that  the  animal  might  graze,  and  sat 
himself  down  beneath  a  tree.  And  there  he  presently 
fell  fast  asleep. 


26      STORIES   FROM   OLD  FRENCH   ROMANCE 

Now  it  so  happened  that  when  the  fair  young  daugh- 
ter of  the  Emperor  had  finished  her  meal,  she  went 
into  the  garden  with  three  of  her  maidens ;  and  they 
began  to  chase  each  other  about  the  place.  And  as 
they  did  so,  the  Emperor's  daughter  came  of  a  sudden 
to  the  tree  where  Constans  lay  sleeping,  and  she  saw 
him  and  looked  on  him  with  delight,  saying  to  herself 
that  never  had  she  seen  so  fair  a  youth.  Then  she 
called  to  her  one  of  the  maidens  whom  she  loved  best, 
and  sent  the  others  from  the  garden  ;  and  she  showed 
him  to  the  maiden,  saying,  "  This  is  the  handsomest 
man  that  ever  I  have  seen  on  any  day  of  my  life.  See, 
he  bears  a  letter  in  his  pouch,  and  gladly  would  I  see 
what  it  says." 

Then  the  two  maidens  drew  nigh  to  the  lad,  and 
took  from  his  pouch  the  letter,  and  the  Princess  read  it 
to  herself;  and  when  she  had  so  done  she  began  to 
weep  and  lament.  Then  her  companion  begged  her 
to  tell  her  the  cause,  and  when  the  Princess  had  made 
her  vow  to  be  true  to  her,  she  told  her  what  the  letter 
said. 

"Lady,  what  will  you  do?"  cried  the  maiden  in 
dismay ;  and  her  young  mistress  answered — 

"  I  will  put  in  his  pouch  another  letter,  in  which  the 
Emperor,  my  father,  bids  his  officer  to  give  me  to  this 
fair  boy  as  his  wife,  and  to  make  a  great  feast  at  our 
wedding,  seeing  that  the  lad  is  of  high  and  noble  birth." 

"  But,  lady,  how  wilt  thou  have  the  seal  of  thy 
father  ? "  asked  the  maiden  ;  and  the  Princess,  nothing 
daunted,  replied  that  she  had  in  her  coffer  four  blank 
scrolls,  already  sealed  by  the  Emperor,  which  he  had 
given  her  in  case  she  needed  to  borrow  money  to  make 
ready  an  army  during  his  absence.  One  of  these  she 
took,  therefore,  and  wrote  thereon — 

"I,  King  Musselin,  Emperor  of  Greece  and  of  Byzan- 
tium my  city,  command  thee,  my  officer,  left  in  my  place 
for  the  guarding  of  my  city,  that  ye  give  to  the  bearer  of 


STORY   OF  CONSTANS  THE   EMPEROR        27 

this  letter  my  fair  daughter  in  marriage ;  for  he  is  of 
noble  birth  and  well  worthy  to  have  her.  And  for  that 
reason  make  ye  great  joy  and  a  feast  to  all  them  of 
my  city  and  of  all  my  land." 

In  such  wise  wrote  the  daughter  of  the  Emperor, 
and  when  she  had  so  done,  she  crept  back  to  the  garden 
with  her  maiden  and  put  the  letter  in  the  pouch  of  the 
sleeping  youth. 

Then  they  began  to  sing  and  clap  their  hands  to 
waken  him,  and  when  he  opened  his  eyes,  he  was  much 
confused  to  see  those  two  fair  maidens.  And  when 
they  greeted  him,  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  and  bowed  low, 
and  answered  them  as  behoved  a  courteous  knight ;  but 
he  could  not  take  his  eyes  from  the  fair  face  of  the 
daughter  of  the  Emperor.  Then  she  asked  him  his 
errand  ;  and  when  he  told  her  that  he  bore  a  letter  to 
the  officer  in  charge,  the  Princess  told  him  she  would 
bring  him  in  to  him  ;  and  she  took  him  by  the  hand 
and  brought  him  to  the  palace. 

When  the  officer  heard  that  he  was  come  from  the 
Emperor,  he  paid  the  lad  much  honour,  and,  kissing  his 
hand,  received  from  it  the  royal  letter.  But  when  the 
Princess  heard  the  contents  she  pretended  great  sur- 
prise ;  as  for  the  officer,  he  was  astonished  beyond 
measure,  and  said  in  trembling  tones  to  her,  "  Lady, 
we  must  indeed  do  the  will  of  your  father,  or  otherwise 
we  shall  be  blamed  exceedingly." 

But  the  maiden  made  pretence  of  anger,  saying, 
"How  can  I  be  wedded  without  my  lord  my  father? 
That  would  be  a  strange  thing  indeed,  and  I  will  do  it 
in  no  manner." 

"  Say  not  so,  lady,"  cried  the  officer  in  fear,  "  for  thus 
thy  father  ordains,  and  we  must  not  gainsay  it." 

"Sir,"  said  the  Princess,  "you  shall  speak  unto  the 
chief  men  of  the  kingdom  and  take  counsel  of  them. 
And  if  they  agree  I  will  not  go  against  it." 

This  the  officer  made  haste  to  do,  and  showed  them 


28     STORIES   FROM   OLD  FRENCH   ROMANCE 

the  letter,  and  they  all  agreed  that  the  will  of  the 
Emperor  must  be  done.  So  they  wedded  the  fair  youth 
Constans  to  the  fair  daughter  of  the  Emperor;  and  a 
great  feast  was  made  to  all  the  people  for  the  space  of 
fifteen  days. 

Meantime  the  Emperor,  having  finished  his  business, 
returned  to  Byzantium,  and  while  he  was  still  two  days' 
journey  distant  from  the  place,  a  young  man  came 
out  from  the  city  and  met  him  on  the  way ;  and  the 
Emperor  asked  how  they  did  there.  When  the  young 
man  told  him  that  they  made  good  cheer  there  and  did 
nothing  but  eat  and  drink  during  the  last  fifteen  days, 
the  Emperor  asked  the  reason. 

"  But  surely,  sire,  thou  knowest  wherefore  they  do 
this?"  cried  the  astonished  youth.  "Thou  sendest 
a  lad,  exceeding  fair  and  noble,  to  the  officer,  bidding 
him  wed  him  to  thy  daughter.  But  she  would  not  have 
him  till  all  thy  chief  men  had  agreed  that  thy  commands 
must  be  obeyed  in  this  matter.  Then  were  they 
wedded  right  happily,  and  such  joy  has  been  in  the  city 
as  none  might  wish  it  better." 

Then  was  the  Emperor  mightily  astonished,  but  all 
he  said  was,  "  Since  it  is  so,  I  must  abide  it,  for  there  is 
naught  else  to  be  done." 

So  he  rode  on  to  Byzantium,  and  when  he  drew  near, 
his  fair  daughter  came  out  to  meet  him  by  the  side  of 
her  young  husband,  and  a  more  lovely  pair  it  had  been 
hard  indeed  to  find.  The  Emperor,  being  a  wise  man, 
pretended  to  feel  great  joy  and  received  them  both 
with  honour  and  regard.  Then  he  asked  to  be  shown 
the  letter,  and  when  he  saw  it  with  his  seal  affixed,  he 
pondered  much  upon  these  things.  All  that  night  he 
sat  deep  in  thought,  and  at  length  he  said  to  himself 
that  he  had  striven  in  vain  against  the  things  that  had 
to  be. 

Thereupon  he  made  Constans  a  knight  and  ap- 
pointed him  his  heir  after  his  death.      And  Constans 


STORY  OF  CONSTANS  THE  EMPEROR        29 

bore  himself  wisely  as  a  valiant  and  a  hardy  knight 
and  defended  him  full  well  against  his  enemies. 

Not  long  afterwards  the  Emperor  died  and  was 
buried,  and  Constans  became  Emperor  in  his  stead. 
And  the  Emperor  gave  great  honour  to  that  good 
Abbot  who  had  nourished  him  and  saved  his  life,  and 
in  his  days  did  all  the  people  of  that  land  become 
Christians. 

A  fair  young  son  was  born  to  Constans  and  his  wife, 
whom  they  called  Constantine ;  thereafter  was  that  city 
known  as  Constantinople,  which  was  called  Byzantium 
at  first. 

And  this  is  the  end  of  the  story  of  Constans  the 
Emperor. 


THE   THIRD  STORY 

THE   STORY    OF   ROLAND   AND 
OLIVER 

(From  Le  Chanson  de  Roland) 

NOW  it  came  to  pass  in  the  days  of  Charlemagne 
that  the  Emperor  had  a  feud  with  one  of  his 
great  vassals,  Count  Gerard  of  Viana.  The  cause  of  it 
was  as  follows :  The  Count  with  many  others  had  come 
to  Aix  to  do  homage  for  his  land  and  to  petition 
Charlemagne  to  grant  him  also  the  dukedom  of  Bur- 
gundy in  return  for  his  services  m  the  late  war.  So 
he  stood  before  the  Emperor  and  his  Queen,  who  sat 
upon  two  thrones  upon  a  raised  dais,  and  bent  to  pay 
his  homage  by  Icissing  the  foot  of  the  King.  But  as  he 
did  so  he  caught  his  own  foot  in  the  rushes  which  lay 
spread  upon  the  floor  and,  stumbling  forward,  pressed 
his  lips  to  the  dainty  wmte  shoe  of  the  Queen  instead. 

The  surrounding  peers  gave  a  shout  of  laughter  at 
this  mistake,  but  as  the  Count  made  no  apology,  stand- 
ing flushed  and  angry  at  the  jesting,  with  his  hand  upon 
his  sword,  Charlemagne's  hot  temper  flared  forth,  and  he 
declared  that  the  land  of  Burgundy  should  be  reserved 
for  one  who  better  knew  the  laws  of  courtesy.  At  that 
Count  Gerard  called  his  men  together  and  left  the 
palace  in  a  rage,  declaring  that  he  would  never  do 
homage  for  Viana  at  all. 

So  he  strengthened  his  castle  and  openly  defied  the 
King ;  and  there  came  to  his  assistance  his  brother, 
Duke  Miles,  and  his  son  Rainier,  with  many  armed  fol- 
lowers. But  with  Rainier  came  also  the  two  children 
of  the  latter,  the  maiden  Aude,  beautiful  as  the  dawn, 

30 


STORY   OF   ROLAND  AND  OLIVER  SI 

and  Oliver,  that  valiant  young  knight,  who  in  former 
days  had  been  sworn  brother-in-arms  to  Roland,  the 
nephew  of  Charlemagne. 

Now  when  the  Emperor  heard  that  Duke  Gerard  had 
defied  him,  he  swore  a  great  oath  that  he  would  never 
forgive  him  nor  leave  him  in  peace  until  he  had  him 
on  his  knees  before  him.  He  gathered  his  great  army 
forthwith,  marched  upon  Viana,  and  closely  besieged 
the  castle.  But  the  latter  was  so  well  fortified  and 
provisioned  that  there  seemed  little  chance  of  success. 

Oftentimes  during  the  long  siege  the  fair  maiden 
Aude  would  come  upon  the  battlements  and  look  down 
upon  the  tents  below,  stretching  wide  to  the  banks  of 
the  Rhine ;  and  there  was  she  seen  one  day  by  young 
Sir  Roland,  who  thought  her  the  loveliest  thing  in  all 
that  land  and  longed  to  find  favour  in  her  sight.  But 
he  knew  not  that  she  was  the  sister  of  Oliver,  nor  did 
he  dream  that  his  former  brother-in-arms  was  one  of 
those  who  so  valiantly  protected  the  castle. 

Month  after  month  the  siege  continued.  All  the 
hard  winter-tide  the  soldiers  of  Charlemagne  kept  their 
tents  and  endured  miseries  of  cold  and  hunger ;  and 
many  of  them  might  well  wish  themselves  elsewhere. 
When  springtime  came  there  rode  messengers  into  the 
camp,  bringing  news  that  Marsilius,  the  Moorish  King 
of  Spain,  had  crossed  the  Pyrenees  and  was  ravaging 
the  South  of  France  with  fire  and  sword.  And  all  the 
people  of  that  fair  region  called  aloud  upon  Charlemagne 
to  come  to  their  help  without  delay. 

Then  the  peers  of  Charlemagne,  when  they  heard 
this  news,  came  to  him  in  council  and  prayed  him  to 
raise  the  long  and  hopeless  siege  and  set  them  free  to 
march  against  the  Moorish  foes.  But  Charlemagne 
shook  his  great  beard  at  them,  saying,  "  Can  the  King 
break  his  oath?  Have  I  not  sworn  not  to  forgive 
Count  Gerard  nor  leave  him  in  peace  until  I  have 
humbled  him  to  the  dust  ?  " 


32      STORIES   FROM   OLD   FRENCH   ROMANCE 

In  vain  they  reasoned  with  him ;  nothing  would 
move  him  from  his  resolve  until  the  wise  Duke  Naymes 
made  his  proposition. 

"  Let  God  decide  this  matter,"  said  the  Duke,  "  and 
let  us  leave  Him  to  settle  it  by  single  combat.  We  will 
choose  one  of  our  knights  by  lot,  and  let  Count  Gerard 
be  asked  to  do  the  same ;  and  the  winner  shall  decide 
whether  the  Count  does  homage  or  whether  we  ride 
away  and  leave  him  at  peace." 

This  idea  seemed  very  good  to  the  Emperor  and  his 
peers,  and  an  embassy  was  at  once  dispatched  to  Count 
Gerard  with  the  proposition. 

Now  the  Count  and  his  followers  were  just  as  weary 
of  this  long  and  profitless  siege  as  were  those  in  the 
Emperor's  camp.  So  they  gladly  sent  word  back  that 
they  would  agree  to  do  as  had  been  proposed  ;  and  both 
sides  prepared  to  draw  the  lot. 

On  the  side  of  Charlemagne  this  fell  upon  Roland  ; 
and  at  this  all  men  save  the  traitor  Ganelon  rejoiced  ;  for 
Roland  was  both  young  and  valiant  and  very  eager  to 
prove  his  prowess  in  the  sight  of  the  Emperor.  So  he 
buckled  on  his  good  sword  Durandal,  and  the  strong  new 
buckler  that  the  King  himself  had  given  him,  and 
mounted  his  war-horse  and  rode  forth  to  victory.  The 
place  of  the  combat  was  an  island  in  the  midst  of  the 
River  Rhine,  and  there  Roland  found  waiting  for  him  a 
well-made  young  knight  in  shining  armour,  whose  face 
was  hidden  from  him  by  the  visor  of  his  helmet. 

On  one  side  of  the  river  stood  the  hosts  of  Charle- 
magne opposite  to  the  hosts  of  Count  Gerard  on  the 
other,  and  both  watched  eagerly  for  the  result  of  the 
fight.  Among  the  watchers  on  the  castle  side  stood 
the  maiden  Aude  and  looked  with  eyes  of  approval  at 
the  handsome  form  of  Roland  as  he  approached  his 
adversary. 

Pale  blue  and  white  was  the  robe  she  wore,  and  pale 
blue  and  white  were  the  ribbons  that  fluttered  from  the 


STORY   OF   ROLAND   AND   OLIVER  3S 

helmet  of  the  stranger  knight  whom  he  was  now  about 
to  encounter. 

Then  the  fight  began.  At  the  first  furious  onset  the 
lances  of  both  the  combatants  were  broken  against  each 
other's  shields.  They  fought  then  on  foot  for  all  the  rest 
of  that  day,  but  not  a  single  advantage  did  one  gain  over 
the  other  till  the  evening,  when  the  sword  of  the  stranger 
knight  was  shattered  to  atoms  by  a  furious  blow  against 
Roland's  helmet. 

The  latter  at  once  lowered  his  own  point,  saying, 
"The  champion  of  Charlemagne  fights  not  against  an 
unarmed  man.  Stay  therefore  until  the  morning,  for 
night  draws  on  apace,  and  to-morrow  choose  another 
sword  and  let  us  come  fresh  to  the  fray." 

So  the  combat  ended  for  that  day  and  the  champions 
retired  to  rest.  Next  morning  the  fight  began  again 
with  renewed  vigour,  and  all  day  long  were  these  two 
knights  exactly  matched  until  the  evening,  when 
Roland's  shield  was  split  from  top  to  bottom  by  the 
sword  of  Gerard's  champion.  At  once  the  latter 
dropped  his  sword  and  bade  his  adversary  retire  till  the 
morning  and  then  come  with  fresh  armour. 

So  in  this  same  manner  that  strange  combat  con- 
tinued for  five  days,  neither  gaining  a  fair  advantage  in 
the  fight  and  each  scorning  to  get  the  better  of  his  foe 
by  an  unfair  one. 

At  length,  as  the  fifth  day  drew  to  its  close  the  two 
knights  waxed  desperate  and  drove  hard  at  each 
other  in  hopes  to  bring  the  strange  combat  to  an  end. 
At  precisely  the  same  moment  that  the  sword  of  the 
stranger  knight  broke  off  short  to  the  handle  after  a 
terrible  blow  on  Roland's  shield,  the  sword  of  Roland 
buried  itself  up  to  its  hilt  in  the  shield  of  the  stranger 
knight  so  that  it  could  not  be  withdrawn. 

Both  were  now  defenceless  save  for  their  fists,  and 
with  these  they  were  about  to  rush  upon  each  other 
when  a  strange  thing  happened,  A  bright  cloud 
3 


S4     STOtUES  FROM   OLD  FRENCH   ROMANCE 

suddenly  fell  between  them  from  the  sky  and  in  its 
midst  stood  an  angel  with  uplifted  hand  bidding  them 
cease  their  strife.  At  this  wonderful  portent  each  of 
the  young  knights  cast  off  his  helmet  and  bowed  his 
head  in  awe ;  and  when  they  looked  up  again,  behold, 
the  angel  had  vanished  and  each  was  gazing  at  a  well- 
known  face. 

"Roland!"     "Oliver!" 

"  I  yield  !  " 

Exactly  at  the  same  moment  came  the  cry  from  each 
as  they  rushed  into  each  other's  arms  in  a  long  em- 
brace. 

Deep  was  the  wonder  of  the  armies  on  either  side  of 
the  river  at  this  remarkable  development,  and  messengers 
were  hastily  dispatched  for  an  explanation. 

This  was  soon  forthcoming,  and  so  strong  was  the  tie 
between  all  brothers-in-arms  in  chivalry  that  both  sides 
joined  in  a  cheer  of  congratulation.  And  because  the 
combat  had  been  so  wonderfully  equal  between  them 
there  grew  up  from  that  time  forth  a  proverb — "  Give 
a  Roland  for  an  Oliver  " — which  means  the  same  as 
"  Tit  for  tat." 

Now  this  incident  did  not  actually  settle  the  feud 
with  Count  Gerard,  though  it  went  a  long  way  towards 
doing  so  by  creating  a  spirit  of  goodwill  on  both  sides  ; 
but  in  the  meantime  the  army  of  Charlemagne  was 
growing  more  and  more  discontented  with  its  position, 
and  more  and  more  eager  to  fight  the  forces  of  the 
Moors,  those  ancient  foes  of  P>ance. 

At  length  one  count  after  another  began  to  collect 
his  forces  and  slip  quietly  away  towards  the  devastated 
region  of  the  south,  sometimes  giving  as  his  reason  that 
he  must  go  and  look  after  his  property  in  that  part, 
sometimes  saying  nothing  at  all,  but  taking  "  French 
leave" — which  means  no  leave  at  all. 

And  still  Charlemagne  made  no  sign,  though  inwardly 
his  heart  misgave  him. 


STORY    OF    ROLAND    AND    OLIVER  35 

Then  it  so  happened  that  one  day  as  he  went  to  the 
chase  he  found  himself  suddenly  surrounded  by  Count 
Gerard's  men,  who  had  been  lying  in  wait  for  him. 
Brought  before  the  Count,  the  Emperor  heard  a  traitor 
knight  speaking  eagerly  to  his  captor  and  advising  that 
he  should  be  put  to  death. 

Then  arose  old  Count  Gerard  and  smote  down  that 
traitor  knight  even  to  the  ground,  and  cried  aloud, 
"  Never  will  I  take  advantage  of  my  liege  lord  thus ! 
Rather  will  I  pay  him  homage  for  my  lands," 

So  saying  he  knelt  humbly  before  the  Emperor  and 
placed  his  hands  between  those  of  Charlemagne,  who 
raised  him  to  his  feet,  crying,  "  Now  is  my  oath  fulfilled 
in  strange  fashion,  and  gladly  do  I  declare  this  feud  at 
an  end.  Let  all  be  forgotten  and  forgiven  between  us, 
and  to-night  will  I  feast  with  you  in  your  castle  of 
Viana." 

So  the  peers  and  knights  on  both  sides  met  in  peace 
and  goodwill  at  that  banquet ;  and  Roland  sat  with 
Oliver  on  his  left  hand  and  the  fair  Aude  on  his  right. 
And  in  days  to  come,  when  Roland  had  fought  and 
vanquished  a  great  giant  of  the  pagan  Moors,  he  claimed 
the  hand  of  fair  Aude  in  marriage.  But  before  the 
wedding  came  that  sad  and  terrible  day  at  Roncesvalles, 
when  Roland  so  bravely  laid  down  his  life  for  the  cause 
of  Christendom. 

But  of  that  we  shall  read  in  the  next  story. 


THE   FOURTH   STORY 

THE   STORY   OF   THE   DEATH   OF 
ROLAND 

(From  Le  C/ui/ison  dc  Roland) 

CHAPTER   I 
THE   MESSAGE    OF   MARSILIUS 


S 


EVEN  long  years  had  Charlemagne  the  King 
v.^  fought  against  the  heathen  host  of  the  Moors  in 
Spain,  until  he  had  conquered  all  the  land  down  to  the 
seashore  itself  One  fortress  only  withstood  him  yet, 
and  that  was  Saragossa,  which,  perched  upon  a  rocky 
mountain-top,  defied  all  efforts  to  subdue  it.  And 
within  the  fortress  of  Saragossa  lived  Marsilius,  the 
Moorish  King,  who  feared  neither  God  nor  man  save 
only  Charlemagne. 

Within  the  walls  of  the  city  sat  Marsilius  under  an 
olive  tree  and  held  council  with  his  nobles  and  his 
warriors.  "  What  shall  we  do  ?  "  said  he.  "  For  seven 
long  years  has  Charlemagne  fought  within  our  borders 
and  has  won  to  himself  all  our  land  save  only  Sara- 
gossa. And  now  he  will  come  to  take  that  also  from 
us,  and  we  are  no  match  for  his  warriors  when  he 
comes.  What,  then,  shall  we  do  to  save  ourselves  and 
our  land  ?" 

Then  rose  up  the  wise  counsellor  Blancandrin  and 
said,  "One  thing  is  clear.  Too  long  already  has 
Charlemagne  been  in  the  land  of  Spain,  and  now  'tis 
high  time  that  he  be  got  rid  of  Now,  since  we  are 
too  few  to  drive  him  forth,  we  must  have  recourse  to 
strategy.  'Tis  easy  to  make  promises,  and  none  here 
is    bound    by   them    in    after  days.     Let  us    therefore 

36 


STORY  OF  THE  DEATH  OF  ROLAND    37 

choose  out  an  embassy,  and  let  them  go  to  Charle- 
magne and  speak  to  him  after  this  fashion  :  '  Marsilius 
sendeth  humble  greeting  to  the  great  Charles.  Like- 
wise he  owns  thy  power,  and  sees  that  it  is  of  no  avail 
to  strive  longer  against  thee.  He  would  therefore  make 
a  covenant  with  thee.  If  thou  wilt  depart  in  peace  from 
this  land,  Marsilius  will  be  baptized  and  all  his  host, 
and  will  pay  thee  homage  and  hold  the  country  hence- 
forth, or  such  part  as  may  please  thee,  as  thy  vassal. 

"'And  thus  shall  the  covenant  be  fulfilled.  If  thou 
wilt  go  to  thy  castle  at  Aachen  and  keep  there  the 
feast  of  Michaelmas,  thy  vassal  Marsilius  will  journey 
thither  and  will  bring  with  him  the  tribute.  Many 
dogs  and  lions  will  he  bring,  with  seven  hundred 
camels  and  a  thousand  falcons  ;  he  will  also  bring  four 
hundred  harness  mules  and  fifty  chariots  full  of  gold 
and  silver.' 

"  Thus  shall  the  ambassadors  say  to  Charlemagne, 
and  he,  being  simple  of  heart,  will  hear  them  readily, 
and  so  will  depart  from  the  land." 

He  finished  speaking,  and  Marsilius,  pulling  his 
white  beard  doubtfully,  replied,  "  Mayhap  this  Charle- 
magne is  not  so  simple  as  to  trust  so  easily  the  word  of 
a  Moor.     Suppose  he  demand  hostages  ?  " 

"Let  him  have  them!"  cried  Blancandrin.  "Let 
him  have  ten  or  twenty  of  our  sons.  He  is  welcome 
to  mine  at  any  rate.  What  matters  so  long  as  oui 
land  is  rid  of  him?  For  he  will  go  with  all  his  host  to 
Aachen,  and  when  the  feast  is  held  and  we  do  not 
appear,  he  will  slay  the  boys  in  his  wrath  at  finding  he 
has  been  tricked.  But  what  matters  that  ?  Better  that 
our  sons  should  die  than  that  our  land  be  lost  for  ever." 

Then  all  the  council  arose  and  cried,  "  Blancandrin 
has  spoken  well.     Let  this  now  be  done." 

So  Blancandrin  and  nine  others  of  the  Moorish  peers 
went  forth  on  ten  white  mules,  whose  bridles  were  of 
gold  and  their  saddles  trimmed  with  silver ;  and  they 


S8      STORIES   FROM   OLD   FRENCH    ROMANCE 

held  olive  branches  in  their  hands  in  token  of  peace 
and  good  fellowship.  Thus  equipped  they  set  out  for 
Cordova,  which  city  Charlemagne  had  just  taken,  and 
before  which  he  now  held  high  festival. 

Beneath  a  pine  tree  twined  about  with  brier-rose  sat 
Charlemagne  upon  a  golden  chair,  inlaid  with  ivory. 
Very  white  and  long  was  his  beard,  his  face  was  bronzed, 
and  his  eyes  bright  and  blue  ;  and  though  his  years 
were  many,  his  back  was  not  bowed  nor  his  great 
strength  brought  low. 

Scattered  upon  the  green  lawn  on  which  he  sat  were 
some  of  the  noblest  of  the  peers  of  France  ;  and  nearest  to 
himself  stood  Roland,  his  nephew,  and  captain  of  his 
host.  Not  far  off  lay  Oliver,  the  friend  of  Roland,  and 
Geoffrey  of  Anjou,  the  King's  standard-bearer,  stretched 
upon  the  white  cloth  which  was  spread  upon  the  grass ; 
others  were  tilting  with  each  other  upon  the  green  ; 
while  the  elder  knights  gathered  round  the  tables  where 
some  of  their  number  were  playing  at  chess. 

Into  the  midst  of  this  noble  company  came  the 
Moorish  ambassadors  and  bowed  themselves  low  before 
the  King ;  and  when  he  had  given  permission  to  speak, 
Blancandrin  spoke  these  words — ■ 

"  God  save  the  glorious  King  Charlemagne,  the  ruler 
of  the  earth.  My  master  Marsilius  sends  me  to  thee  to 
beg  that  thou  wilt  make  peace  with  him,  for  he  can 
withstand  thee  no  longer.  If  thou  wilt  get  thee  to 
Aachen,  thy  royal  city,  Marsilius  will  follow  thee  there 
to  keep  the  feast  of  S.  Michael  with  thee ;  for  he  will 
seek  baptism  there,  with  all  his  host,  and  will  worship 
from  henceforth  the  God  of  the  Christians.  Gifts  will 
he  bring  of  bears  and  lions,  hounds  and  camels,  falcons 
and  jewels,  and  chariots  full  of  gold  and  silver.  And 
he  will  pledge  his  word  to  be  thy  man  henceforth  and 
to  hold  Spain  under  thy  command,  yea,  all  that  he  hath 
he  will  hold  of  thee.     Thy  servant  hath  spoken  it." 

Now  after  these  words  were  said  a  great  silence  fell ; 


STORY   OF  THE   DEATH   OF   ROLAND        39 

for  Charlemagne  spoke  never  in  haste,  nor  changed  his 
mind  when  he  had  once  spoken.  At  length  he  raised  his 
great  white  head,  saying,  "  How  shall  I  know  that  King 
Marsilius  will  keep  his  word,  seeing  that  he  is  mine 
enemy  ?  " 

And  the  messenger  replied,  "  O  King,  he  offers 
thee  hostages  of  good  faith,  ten  or  twenty  children 
of  our  noblest  chieftains.  But  he  prays  you  to  treat 
them  well,  seeing  that  at  the  feast  of  S.  Michael  he 
will  surely  come  to  Aachen  to  redeem  them,  pay  his 
tribute,  and  receive  baptism." 

Then  the  Emperor  Charlemagne  arose  and  gave 
orders  that  good  lodging  be  given  to  the  Moors  for  the 
night ;  and  when  the  morning  came  he  sent  them  away, 
promising  that  he  would  consider  well  the  words  of 
Marsilius  and  let  him  know  his  decision  ere  long. 

So,  after  their  departure,  he  called  a  great  council  to 
consider  the  matter.  Thither  came  Count  Roland,  and 
Oliver  his  friend,  with  Archbishop  Turpin,  Olger  the 
Dane,  and  many  another  noble  lord.  With  them  also 
came  Ganelon  the  traitor,  who  hated  Roland  his  step- 
son and  was  ever  on  the  look  out  to  work  him  evil. 

Now  when  the  King  had  showed  them  all  the  words 
of  Marsilius  and  had  asked  their  advice,  the  Franks 
replied  at  once,  "  Beware  of  Marsilius,  O  King." 

Then  Roland  spake,  saying,  "  Trust  him  not,  sire, 
however  fair  his  words  may  be.  Remember  how  he 
slew  Count  Basant  and  Count  Basil,  whom  we  sent 
to  him  beforetime  upon  a  peaceful  errand.  Rather  let 
us  summon  the  host  and  march  upon  Saragossa  with 
all  our  might,  that  we  may  conquer  the  last  of  the 
Moorish  strongholds  and  so  win  Spain  outright." 

But  Ganelon  the  traitor  stood  behind  the  King's 
shoulder  and  murmured  in  his  ear,  "  Heed  not  the 
words  of  this  young  babbler.  Consider  rather  how 
Marsilius  offers  you  his  all — his  faith,  his  goods,  his 
service.     What  honour  will  you  gain  by  waging  war 


40      STORIES   FROM    OLD    FRENCH   ROMANCE 

upon  a  fallen  man?  This  Roland  is  puffed  up  with 
pride  and  thinks  of  naught  but  to  gain  renown  upon  the 
battlefield  ;  and  to  do  this  he  will  risk  all  our  lives." 

Then  Duke  Naymes,  a  good  and  valiant  baron,  hearing 
his  words,  spake  out  and  said,  "  Ganelon  has  spoken 
wise  words,  though  he  needeth  not  to  lay  blame  upon 
our  good  Count  Roland.  But  what  glory  indeed  is 
there  in  fighting  a  vanquished  foe?  We  cannot 
trample  on  him  who  lies  grovelling  at  our  feet.  Let 
us  make  peace,  therefore,  and  end  the  long  and  weary 
war." 

All  the  Franks  answered  and  said,  "  His  words  are 
good." 

"  Who  then,"  said  Charlemagne,  "  shall  go  up  to 
King  Marsilius  at  Saragossa,  to  bear  my  glove  and  staff 
and  make  agreement  with  him  ?" 

"  I  will  go,"  cried  Duke  Naymes  at  once ;  but  the 
Emperor  answered,  "  Nay,  for  thou  art  my  wisest 
counsellor,  therefore  I  cannot  spare  thee." 

"  Send  me,  I  pray  thee,"  urged  Count  Roland,  kneel- 
ing on  one  knee  before  the  King  ;  but  before  he  could 
reply.  Count  Oliver,  his  friend  and  best-beloved,  cried, 
"  Roland  to  go  upon  a  peaceful  errand  !  Why,  with  thy 
hot  blood  and  impatient  tongue,  thou  wouldst  spoil  any 
hope  of  peace.     Let  the  King  send  me." 

But  Charlemagne  waved  them  both  aside,  saying, 
"  Peace  1  Neither  of  you  shall  go." 

Then  arose  Archbishop  Turpin,  full  of  zeal,  saying, 
"  I  am  very  eager  to  see  this  heathen  host  and  to 
baptize  them  with  their  King ;  therefore  let  me  be  the 
one  to  go." 

But  the  Emperor  answered,  "  Not  so  fast,  good  Tur- 
pin ;  let  them  first  make  peace  with  me  and  then  shall 
they  be  baptized.  Now,  noble  Franks,  look  around 
you,  and  choose  me  a  worthy  man  to  make  agreement 
with  Marsilius." 

Then  Roland   answered,  "  Send   Ganelon,  my  step- 


STORY    OF  THE   DEATH   OF   ROLAND         41 

father";  and  the  Franks  acclaimed  him,  saying,  "Yes, 
Ganelon  is  the  man,  for  there  is  none  more  cunning  in 
speech  than  he." 

When  Ganelon  heard  their  words  his  heart  within 
him  turned  to  water,  for  he  remembered  too  well  the 
fate  of  those  who  had  before  that  time  gone  as 
messengers  to  Marsilius.  But  chiefly  was  his  anger 
kindled  against  Roland,  his  stepson,  so  that  all  who 
were  present  saw  it,  and  in  his  wrath  he  stood  up 
against  him,  saying  bitterly,  "  Wouldst  thou  thus 
openly  show  thy  malice  against  me  ?  Thou  art  a  fool 
to  do  so,  though  we  know  that  there  is  little  love 
between  us.  But  wait  thou  until  I  return  again,  and 
if  I  live  I  will  repay  thee  for  this." 

To  which  Roland  answered  with  a  laugh, "  No  malice 
was  there  in  my  words,  as  all  these  men  know  well. 
'Tis  an  honourable  task  that  lies  before  thee,  and  one 
that  needs  a  skilful  man  and  wise  of  speech.  Thou 
shouldst  be  proud  indeed  if  the  King  selects  thee  for 
it." 

"  I  go  not  at  tJiy  bidding,"  cried  the  angry  Ganelon, 
"for  thou  hast  never  gone  or  come  at  mine.  Thou  art 
not  my  son,  nor  am  I  thy  father ;  but  if  Charlemagne 
command  me,  I  will  do  his  service.  Yet  the  day  shall 
come  when  thou  shalt  repent  of  thy  words." 

And  again  Roland  laughed  aloud,  and  many  of  the 
peers  laughed  too. 

Then  Ganelon,  though  black  with  inward  rage,  bowed 
himself  before  the  Emperor,  saying  smoothly,  "  Sire, 
ready  am  I  to  go  up  to  Saragossa,  although  no 
messenger  has  ever  returned  from  Marsilius  alive. 
One  thing  I  would  crave  in  return,  and  that  is  that 
thou  wouldst  care  for  my  young  son  Baldwin  ;  see  to 
it  that  he  inherits  my  land  and  honours,  and  train  him 
among  thy  knights  when  I  return  no  more." 

But  Charlemagne  replied,  "  Ganelon,  be  not  so  faint- 
hearted ;  look  not  on  the  dark  side,  but  take  my  staff 


42      STORIES   FROM   OLD   FRENCH    ROMANCE 

and  glove  and  do  my  bidding,  since  the  Franks  have 
chosen  thee." 

"  No  choice  of  the  Franks  is  this,"  cried  Ganelon, 
"  'tis  Roland's  doing.  All  my  life  have  I  hated  him  and 
his  companion  Oliver ;  and  as  for  the  champion  peers 
of  France,  in  whose  eyes  Roland  can  do  no  wrong, 
I  defy  them  to  their  faces." 

"  Thy  humour  is  ill  indeed.  Count  Ganelon,"  replied 
Charlemagne,  smiling  ;  "  and  if  thou  wert  as  valiant  with 
thy  sword  as  with  thy  tongue  the  peers  of  France 
might  tremble.  But,  behold,  they  laugh.  Take  no 
heed  of  them,  however,  for  in  this  matter  thy  tongue 
may  do  us  better  service  than  their  swords." 

Then  the  King  drew  the  glove  from  his  right  hand  and 
held  it  out  to  him ;  but  Ganelon,  discomposed  and 
wrathful,  missed  it  so  that  it  fell  upon  the  ground. 
Then  all  the  Franks  muttered  low  to  each  other,  say- 
ing, "  This  is  an  ill  omen,  indeed."  But  Ganelon 
hastened  to  pick  it  up,  saying,  "  Fear  not ;  ye  shall  hear 
more  of  it  anon."  Then  the  King  gave  to  him  a  letter, 
signed  and  sealed,  and  delivered  to  him  the  staff,  saying, 
"  Depart  in  the  name  of  God  and  in  mine  own." 


CHAPTER   II 
GANELON   THE   TRAITOR 

WHEN  Ganelon  had  ridden  some  miles  along  the 
countryside  he  perceived  in  front  of  him  the 
messengers  of  Marsilius,  who  had  made  their  journey 
slowly,  and  were  now  halted  beneath  an  olive  tree  to 
rest  themselves. 

To  them  Ganelon  quickly  rode  and  joined  himself 
to  their  party.  They  talked  to  him  of  Charlemagne 
and  of  his  many  conquests  and  of  the  grandeur  of  his 
court ;  but  he  spoke  bitterly  to  them  of  Roland  and  of 


STORY  OF  THE  DEATH  OF  ROLAND    43 

his  eagerness  for  battle,  and  of  how  he  was  fiercest 
against  the  Moors  of  all  the  King's  peers. 

So,  when  they  rode  on  again,  Blancandrin  drew 
Ganelon  aside  from  the  rest,  and  talked  warily  to  him, 
saying,  "  Thinkest  thou  we  shall  have  peace?" 

And  Ganelon  answered,  "  He  that  asks  for  peace 
often  seeks  occasion  for  war." 

To  which  Blancandrin  replied,  "  And  he  who  bears 
the  message  of  peace  to  his  master's  enemies  often 
desires  to  be  avenged  on  his  own." 

Thus  each  of  these  two  knew  the  other  to  be  a  rogue, 
and  so  they  made  friends  together  and  opened  their 
hearts  and  spoke  freely,  laying  their  wicked  plans. 

Now  when  they  came  to  Saragossa,  Blancandrin  led 
Ganelon  into  the  presence  of  King  Marsilius,  saying, 
"  We  have  borne  thy  message,  O  King,  to  the  haughty 
Charles,  but  he  deigned  to  answer  us  never  a  word. 
He  has,  however,  sent  to  us  the  noble  Count  Ganelon, 
from  whose  lips  we  shall  hear  whether  we  shall  have 
peace  or  no." 

Then  the  wily  Ganelon,  instead  of  giving  the  letter 
of  Charlemagne,  said  thus :  "  God  save  King  Marsilius. 
The  mighty  Charlemagne  sends  to  thee  these  words  by 
me,  his  messenger:  'If  thou  wilt  become  a  Christian 
forthwith,  I  will  give  thee  the  half  of  Spain  to  hold 
from  me  as  my  vassal,  and  thou  shalt  pay  me  tribute 
and  be  my  servant.  If  not  I  will  come  upon  thee  like 
a  whirlwind  and  will  take  thy  land  by  force  and  bring 
thee  to  Aachen,  to  my  court,  and  there  thou  shalt  be  put 
to  death.'" 

Now  when  the  King  heard  these  words  his  counte- 
nance darkened,  and  he  snatched  up  a  spear  as  though 
to  cast  it  at  the  messenger ;  but  Ganelon  bowed  his 
head  and  said  again,  "  Great  King,  I  was  bound  to 
deliver  my  message — let  now  the  messenger  die  if  it  so 
please  thee.  Yet  what  shall  it  profit  thee  to  kill  me? 
Will  that  bring  a  softer  message?    And  will  not  Charles 


44      STORIES    FROM    OLD    FRENCH    ROMANCE 

be  avenged  of  my  blood  ?  Read  now,  I  pray  thee,  his 
written  words." 

With  that  he  handed  to  Marsihus  a  parchment  that 
he  had  prepared  exactly  like  that  which  Charlemagne 
had  given  him  ;  and  the  King  broke  the  seal  and  read 
aloud  the  letter. 

"  I,  Charles  the  King,  remember  how  thou  slewest 
Basant  my  messenger  and  his  brother  Basil ;  therefore, 
before  I  will  make  peace,  I  order  thee  to  send  me  thine 
uncle  the  Caliph,  thy  chief  minister,  that  I  may  do  with 
him  as  I  will." 

Then  was  the  King's  son  so  enraged  that  he  drew  his 
scimitar  and  rushed  upon  Ganelon,  saying,  "  It  is  not 
meet  that  the  bearer  of  such  words  should  live." 

Hard  would  it  have  gone  with  Ganelon,  then,  had  not 
Blancandrin,  who  had  waited  but  for  this  moment,  cried 
out,  "  Do  the  Frank  no  harm,  my  lord,  for  he  has 
pledged  himself  to  be  on  our  side  and  to  work  for  our 
profit  only,"  and  with  these  words  he  took  Ganelon  by 
the  hand  and  brought  him  before  the  King. 

Then  the  King  spoke  kindly  to  him,  saying,  "  I  was 
wrong  to  be  wroth  with  thee,  O  Ganelon  ;  and  now  will 
I  give  thee  five  hundred  gold  pieces  to  make  amends." 

And  Ganelon  replied,  "  He  that  looketh  not  to  his 
own  profit  is  but  a  fool,  O  King  ;  nor  would  I  now  be  so 
ungrateful  as  to  refuse  thy  bounty." 

So  they  began  to  talk  together,  and  Marsilius  said, 
"  Charles  is  now  a  very  old  man  ;  many  are  the  years 
he  has  passed  in  conquest,  and  great  are  the  honours 
and  riches  he  has  gained.  Is  he  not  yet  weary  of  war, 
nor  satisfied  with  what  he  has  got  ?  " 

"  Charles  is  indeed  weary  of  war,"  answered  Ganelon 
smoothly,  "  but  Roland,  his  captain,  is  a  covetous  and 
greedy  man,  and  he,  with  the  twelve  peers  of  France,  in 
whose  eyes  he  can  do  no  wrong,  are  for  ever  stirring  up 
the  King  to  war.  And  these  do  whatever  they  will  with 
the  King,  though  he  is  feeble  and  weary,  and  wuuld 


STORY  OF  THE  DEATH  OF  ROLAND    45 

rather  rest.  If  these  men  were  slain  the  world  would 
have  peace.  But  they  are  mighty  warriors,  and  have 
with  them  twenty  thousand  men,  the  flower  of  the 
French  host,  and  who  can  prevail  against  them  in  the 
open  field  ?  " 

"  Yet  I,"  said  Marsilius,  "  have  four  hundred  thousand 
warriors,  the  best  that  ever  were  seen  ;  would  not  they 
be  sufficient  ? " 

"  No,  indeed,"  said  Ganelon  ;  "  it  were  folly  to  think 
so.  A  wiser  plan  would  be  mine.  Send  back  with  me 
the  hostages  to  Charles,  so  that  he  will  gather  his  host 
and  depart  from  Spain,  and  go  to  Aachen  to  await  thy 
coming.  But  since  they  are  many  he  will  leave  his 
rear-guard  of  twenty  thousand,  led  by  Roland  and 
Oliver  and  the  twelve  peers,  to  follow  later.  Upon 
these,  since  they  suspect  no  danger,  thy  warriors 
must  fall,  so  that  not  one  of  them  escapes.  When 
these  are  once  destroyed  thou  mayest  make  thine  own 
terms  of  peace,  for  the  power  of  Charles  will  be  broken 
and  he  will  fight  no  more.  Now  this  rear-guard  will 
march  by  the  pass  through  the  narrow  valley  of 
Roncesvalles ;  see,  therefore,  that  thou  surround  the 
valley  with  thy  host  and  take  them  by  stratagem ; 
then,  though  they  will  sell  their  lives  dearly,  they 
cannot  escape." 

Thus  did  Ganelon  the  traitor  do  treason  against 
Charlemagne  his  lord,  and  received  from  Marsilius 
much  treasure  of  gold  and  precious  stones.  Also  Mar- 
silius handed  to  him  the  keys  of  the  city  of  Saragossa, 
promising  that  he  should  rule  over  it  after  these  things 
had  come  to  pass,  and  that  he  would  also  give  him  ten 
mules*  burden  of  fine  gold  of  Arabia.  Thereupon 
Ganelon  departed  from  him  in  great  goodwill,  and  the 
twenty  iiostages  journeyed  with  him  to  Charlemagne. 

Now  when  Ganelon  came  into  the  presence  of  the 
great  Kmg,  he  reported  well  of  his  mission,  saying  that 
Marsilius  was  ready  to  do  ail  that  he  had   promised, 


46      STORIES   FROM   OLD   FRENCH    ROMANCE 

and  had  even  now  set  out  upon  his  journey  to  Aachen 
to  do  homage  and  to  pay  tribute  and  to  be  baptized. 
And  at  that  Charlemagne  raised  his  hands  to  heaven 
and  thanked  God  from  his  inmost  heart  for  so  blessed 
an  ending  to  the  war  in  Spain. 

That  same  night,  after  the  King  had  lain  down  to 
sleep,  he  dreamed  a  strange  dream.  He  thought  he 
stood  in  the  pass  of  Roncesvalles  with  no  weapon  in 
his  hand  save  an  ash  spear ;  and  this  spear  Count 
Ganelon  snatched  from  his  hand  as  he  passed  by,  and 
broke  into  a  hundred  splinters.  And  he  awoke  and 
knew  it  was  a  dream. 

Then  he  slept  again,  and  dreamed  that  he  was  in  his 
royal  city  of  Aachen,  where  a  viper  came  and  fastened 
on  his  hand  ;  and  while  he  was  trying  in  v^in  to  shake 
it  off  a  leopard  sprang  upon  him  and  would  have  torn 
him  in  pieces,  had  not  his  favourite  hound  leapt  upon 
the  beast  and  torn  off  his  ear.  Then  an  awful  fight 
began  between  the  dog  and  the  leopard,  but  which  of 
the  two  was  getting  the  best  of  it  he  could  not  tell. 
He  tossed  and  tossed  upon  the  bed  in  the  horror  of  it, 
and  suddenly  awoke  to  find  the  sun  was  shining,  and 
knew  it  was  a  dream. 

So  Charlemagne  arose  and  gathered  his  host  together 
to  march  to  Aachen  and  to  keep  the  feast  there.  And 
he  made  Olger  the  Dane  his  captain  of  the  vanguard, 
to  go  with  him  in  the  forefront  of  the  host ;  and  to 
Ganelon  he  said,  "  Whom  shall  I  make  captain  of  the 
rear-guard  which  I  leave  behind  ?  " 

And  Ganelon  answered  smoothly,  "  Roland  thy 
nephew ;  for  there  is  none  like  him  in  all  the  host." 

When  Roland  heard  that  he  rejoiced,  and  said  unto 
the  King,  "  Give  me  now  the  bow  that  is  in  thy  hand  ;  I 
will  not  let  it  fall  as  Ganelon  did  thy  glove."  So  he 
was  left  captain  of  the  rear-guard,  and  with  him  re- 
mained behind  Oliver,  his  dear  companion,  and  the  twelve 
peers,  and  Turpin  the  Archbishop,  and  twenty  thousand 


STORY   OF  THE   DEATH   OF  ROLAND        47 

warriors.  And  Charlemagne  said  to  Roland,  "  Good 
nephew,  I  have  left  half  of  my  army  in  charge  of 
thee.     See  thou  keep  them  safe." 

"  Fear  nothing,  sire,"  replied  Roland,  "  I  will  render 
good  account  of  them  to  thee." 

So  they  embraced  each  other,  and  the  King  departed 
with  his  face  set  to  the  borders  of  Spain.  Many  a 
gloomy  valley  and  dangerous  mountain  path  had  to  be 
traversed  before  his  men  beheld  their  own  lands  again, 
and  even  the  heart  of  Charles  grew  heavy  with  fore- 
bodings as  he  thought  of  his  evil  dreams.  Again  and 
again,  too,  he  spoke  to  Duke  Naymes  of  his  fears  that 
Ganelon  had  wrought  some  treason  to  him,  and  that 
ill-fortune  was  at  hand. 


CHAPTER  III 
THE  PASS   OF  RONCESVALLES 

NOW  Marsilius  had  sent  to  gather  all  his  chieftains 
and  their  men,  and  had  assembled  them  to  the 
number  of  four  hundred  thousand  in  the  valley  of  Ron- 
cesvalles ;  and  some  of  the  most  valiant  of  the  Moorish 
barons  bound  themselves  by  an  oath  to  attack  Roland 
in  a  body,  and  to  fight  with  none  other  until  he  was 
slain. 

Meantime  the  rear-guard  of  Charlemagne's  army  had 
climbed  the  steep  mountain-side,  and  looked  down  upon 
the  valley  below,  through  which  they  had  to  pass ;  they 
saw  that  it  was  as  full  of  spears  as  the  fields  are  of  grass, 
and  the  murmur  of  the  Moorish  host  was  like  the  roar 
of  the  sea  upon  the  shore.  Then  Roland  looked  on 
Oliver  and  said,  "  This  is  the  work  of  Ganelon  the 
traitor." 

And  Oliver  said,  "  What  then  shall  we  do  ?  For  the 
number   of  the   Moors  is   greater  than    we  have  ever 


48      STORIES   FROM    OLD   FRENCH    ROMANCE 

faced  before,  even  with  the  whole  host ;  and  we  are  but 
a  small  portion  thereof  And  their  intention  is  to  give 
battle." 

"  God  grant  they  may  ! "  cried  Roland.  "  Let  us  but 
do  our  duty.  We  will  rest  for  a  while  and  then  we  will 
go  forward." 

"  Be  wise,  my  friend,"  replied  Oliver,  "  for  we  are  far 
outnumbered  by  them.  Take  then  your  horn,  the  horn 
that  Charlemagne  gave  to  you,  and  sound  it ;  it  may 
be  that  he  will  hear  and  return  with  his  host  to  our 
aid." 

But  Roland  answered,  "  The  fewer  we  are  the  more 
glory  shall  we  gain.  God  forbid  that  I  should  sound 
my  horn  and  bring  Charles  back  with  his  barons,  and 
lose  my  good  name  and  bring  dishonour  on  us  all. 
Fear  not  what  may  befall  us,  for  these  pagans  are 
as  good  as  dead  already." 

Then  Oliver  climbed  up  into  a  great  pine  tree  and 
saw  how  vast  was  the  multitude  that  came  up  against 
them,  and  again  he  prayed  Roland  to  sound  his  horn,  or 
at  least  to  come  up  and  see  the  numbers  for  himself 
But  still  he  would  not,  saying  that  it  would  be  time 
enough  to  count  them  when  they  were  slain.  So  he 
bade  his  men  make  ready  for  battle. 

Then  the  good  Archbishop  Turpin  mounted  his  horse 
and  rode  before  the  soldiers,  saying  to  them,  "  Charles 
has  left  us  here  to  do  our  duty,  and  truly  'tis  a  fine 
thing  to  die  for  the  kingdom  and  our  holy  faith.  Re- 
member too  that  if  you  die  you  shall  wear  the  martyr's 
crown  and  be  rewarded  in  Paradise,  where  we  shall 
all  meet.  Kneel  then  and  confess  your  sins,  that  God 
may  have  mercy  on  your  souls." 

Then  all  the  Franks  knelt  as  one  man  upon  the 
ground  and  confessed  their  sins ;  and  the  Archbishop 
blessed  them  and  bade  them  rise,  and  for  their  penance 
go  strike  the  pagan  to  the  ground. 

To  and  fro  in  the  front  of  the  host  rode  their  leader 


STORY  OF  THE  DEATH  OF  ROLAND    49 

Roland  upon  his  good  horse  Veillantif,  and  by  his  side 
hung  his  tried  sword  Durandal. 

He  gazed  upon  the  Moorish  host  and  his  face  grew 
hard  and  stern,  and  then  upon  his  own  warriors  and  his 
face  was  kind  and  gentle. 

"  Good  comrades,"  said  he,  "gentle  and  simple,  let  no 
man  grudge  his  life  to-day,  but  only  let  him  sell  it  dear. 
I  have  promised  my  lord  Charlemagne  to  render  good 
account  of  you,  and  of  that  have  I  no  fear,  for  what 
I  cannot  say,  the  battlefield  will  say  for  us." 

And  they  looked  on  him  and  loved  him  unto  death, 
and  were  willing  to  follow  wherever  he  would  lead  them. 

Then  "  Forward  !  "  he  cried,  and  touching  the  side  of 
Veillantif  with  his  golden  spur,  rode  down  the  mountain- 
side into  the  valley  of  Roncesvalles,  while  Oliver,  Arch- 
bishop Turpin,  and  the  twelve  peers  of  France  pressed 
close  behind. 

Fierce  indeed  was  that  fight,  for  the  spear  of  Roland 
alone  pierced  through  the  bodies  of  fifteen  men,  before 
it  brake  to  pieces  in  his  hand  and  he  was  forced  to 
draw  Durandal  from  its  sheath.  With  equal  valour 
fought  the  twelve ;  nor  did  any  man  of  that  twenty 
thousand  count  his  own  life  dear  to  him.  The  Arch- 
bishop, spurring  his  way  into  the  thickest  fight,  cried, 
"  Thank  God  to  see  how  the  rear-guard  fight ! "  and 
Oliver,  found  fighting  with  the  handle  of  his  broken  spear, 
shouted  when  Roland  bade  him  draw  his  sword,  "  Not 
while  a  handful  of  the  stump  remains,  for  weapons 
to-day  are  precious." 

At  length  full  two  hundred  thousand  of  the  foe  lay 
dead,  not  to  speak  of  those  who  had  sworn  to  fight  with 
none  but  Roland,  all  of  whom  lay  round  him  in  a  ring, 
stone-dead.  But  though  not  a  Frank  gave  way  before 
the  foe,  many  thousands  of  them  now  were  slain,  and 
of  the  valiant  twelve,  two  only  remained. 

Suddenly  as  Marsilius,  panic-stricken,  saw  his  host 
begin  to  fall  back  before  the  onslaught  of  the  Franks, 
4 


50      STORIES   FROM   OLD   FRENCH   ROMANCE 

he  heard  the  loud  blast  of  trumpets  close  at  hand.  And 
behold  !  twenty  strong  regiments  of  Saracens  had  come 
to  his  aid  and  were  pouring  down  from  the  mountain- 
side upon  the  Franks. 

When  they  saw  this  the  Moorish  host  recovered  itself 
and  closed  fast  round  the  dwindling  band  of  Franks. 
Yet  still  Roland  and  his  comrades  fought  so  bravely, 
hurling  back  the  foe  with  grim  jest  as  though  it  were 
but  sport  to  them,  that  the  foemen  stood  in  great  fear 
of  them  and  knew  not  what  to  think.  But  meantime 
the  Franks  were  falling  fast  around  their  leader.  The 
twelve  were  dead  and  all  the  flower  of  the  host,  and 
very  few  were  left  when  Roland  at  length  said  to  Oliver, 
"  Comrade,  now  will  I  sound  my  horn,  if  by  chance 
Charles  may  hear  and  come  to  us." 

But  Oliver  was  angry  with  his  beloved  friend,  and 
said, '"Tis  now  too  late.  Hadst  thou  but  heeded  my 
words  the  women  should  not  have  lost  their  husbands, 
Charles  his  valiant  rear-guard,  nor  France  her  Roland." 

"  Talk  not  of  might-have-beens,"  cried  Archbishop 
Turpin,  "  but  sound  thy  horn  at  once.  Charles  cannot 
save  our  lives  now,  but  he  can  and  will  avenge  them." 

So  Roland  put  his  horn  to  his  mouth  and  blew  a 
mighty  blast.  From  hill  to  hill  it  echoed  and  from 
rock  to  rock,  until  Charles  heard  the  faint  sound  full 
thirty  leagues  away,  and  started  up  within  his  hall  and 
said,  "  What  is  that  I  hear  ?  Surely  our  men  do  fight 
to-day  I " 

But  Ganelon  made  answer,  "  How  can  this  thing  be? 
'Tis  only  the  sighing  of  the  wind  among  the  pine  trees." 

And  even  as  he  spake  the  battle  was  raging  fiercer 
round  Count  Roland,  and  he  himself  was  wounded  very 
sorely  in  the  head,  so  that  the  blood  poured  forth  from 
his  temples. 

Weary  with  the  fight,  he  withdrew  himself  for  a 
moment  from  the  press  and  took  his  horn  and  blew 
with  all   his  strength   a  very  long  and   mighty  blast 


STORY  OF  THE   DEATH   OF  ROLAND        51 

And  when  he  heard  the  echoes  far  away  beyond  the 
mountains,  Charles  leapt  from  his  chair  and  cried, 
"  Hark !  'tis  the  horn  of  Roland.  He  is  in  battle  or 
he  would  never  sound  it." 

But  Ganelon  replied,  "  He  is  too  proud  to  sound  it  in 
battle;  perchance  he  is  hunting  in  the  woods.  A  pretty 
jest  it  would  be  if  Charlemagne  were  to  gather  his  host 
and  take  the  warpath,  to  find  Roland  at  the  sport, 
hunting  a  little  hare!" 

Meantime  the  fight  waxed  closer  yet,  and  now  nearly 
all  save  Roland  were  slain.  And  when  he  found  the 
blood  running  fast  down  his  face  and  his  strength  all  but 
gone,  the  Count  lifted  his  horn  once  more  to  his  mouth 
and  blew  a  feeble  blast.  Far  away  in  his  palace 
Charles  heard  the  dim  wail,  and  started  up  and  cried 
with  bitter  tears,  "  O  my  brave  Roland,  too  long  have 
I  delayed  to  succour  thee.  By  the  wailing  sound  I 
know  that  thou  art  in  sore  peril.  To  arms !  to  arms ! 
For  straightway  we  will  go  to  help  him." 

But  when  Ganelon  would  have  spoken  again,  he 
thrust  him  away  and  ordered  him  to  be  bound  fast  in 
chains  until  he  returned  in  peace.  So  they  threw 
Ganelon  into  prison,  and  Charlemagne  and  his  host  set 
out  with  what  speed  they  might  to  the  succour  of  Roland. 

Far  away  in  the  valley  of  Roncesvalles  the  tiny 
company  that  was  all  that  was  left  of  the  rear-guard 
still  fought  desperately  till  one  by  one  they  fell  beneath 
a  pile  of  the  slain  foemen.  In  one  part  of  the  field 
Roland  espied  Oliver  fighting  one  to  seven,  and  even 
at  that  moment  he  was  struck  a  mortal  wound  in  the 
back.  Yet  even  in  his  last  moments,  when  his  eyes 
were  dim  with  death,  Oliver  did  not  cease  to  wield  his 
sword  and  shout  his  war-cry  with  failing  breath.  Then 
Roland  hastened  to  his  help,  and  cutting  down  the 
Moors  for  a  wide  space  around  him,  came  to  lift  his 
comrade  from  his  horse,  saying  tenderly,  "  Dear  friend, 
I  fear  thou  art  in  evil  case." 


52     STORIES   FROM  OLD   FRENCH  ROMANCE 

And  Oliver  replied,  "  Thy  voice  is  like  the  voice  of 
Roland,  but  I  cannot  see  thy  face." 

'"Tis  I,  thy  comrade,"  cried  Roland. 

And  he  answered,  "  God  bless  thee,  friend ;  God  bless 
Charles  and  France ! "  And  with  these  words  he  fell 
upon  his  face  and  died. 

Then  was  Roland  heavy  of  heart,  and  little  cared  he 
for  life  now  that  Oliver  was  dead.  He  stood  and  looked 
around  him  for  the  rest,  and  behold !  only  two  were  left 
beside  himself.  So  those  three,  Turpin  the  Archbishop 
and  Count  Walter  and  Count  Roland,  determined  to 
sell  their  lives  dear;  and  when  the  pagan  warriors 
rushed  upon  them,  Roland  slew  twenty,  Count  Walter 
six,  and  Turpin  five.  Then  all  the  remnant  of  the 
pagan  army,  forty  thousand  strong,  charged  down  upon 
the  three.  Count  Walter  fell  at  the  first  onset ;  the 
Archbishop  was  brought  from  his  horse,  and  brought 
wounded  to  death  upon  the  ground  ;  yet  had  Roland 
never  a  scratch  upon  his  body  in  all  that  fight,  though 
the  blood  poured  again  from  the  temples  of  his  head. 

Then  once  again  he  took  his  horn  and  tried  to  sound 
it.  Very  feebly  it  echoed  among  the  hills,  but  Charle- 
magne heard  it  on  his  rapid  march  and  cried,  "  Good 
barons,  Roland  is  in  sore  distress ;  I  know  it  by  the 
sighing  of  the  horn.  Spare  not  spur  nor  steed,  I  pray 
you,  for  Roland's  sake." 

Then  he  gave  word  to  sound  the  clarions  loud  and 
clear ;  and  the  echoes  rolled  among  the  mountains  and 
were  plainly  heard  in  the  valley  of  Roncesvalles. 

Great  was  the  panic  of  the  pagan  host  when  they 
heard  that  sound.  "  'I'is  the  army  of  Charlemagne," 
they  cried.  "  Lo,  he  comes  upon  us  and  we  shall  have  to 
fight  this  battle  all  over  again.  Let  us  depart  quickly 
before  he  appear,  for  there  is  but  one  man  more  to  slay." 

So  four  hundred  of  their  picked  men  rode  at  Count 
Roland  ;  yet  they  feared  to  go  too  nigh,  for  they  said, 
"  There  is  no  man  who  can  slay  this  warrior."    But  each 


STORY   OF  THE   DEATH   OF  ROLAND        53 

of  them  flung  his  spear,  and  his  good  horse  Veillantif, 
stricken  in  twenty  places,  dropped  dead  beneath  him. 
Under  him  fell  Roland,  and  lay  stunned  by  the  fall  ;  but 
though  his  armour  was  riddled  with  spear-holes,  yet  had 
he  never  a  scratch  upon  him.  But  the  pagans  came  and 
looked  at  him,  and  giving  him  up  for  dead,  made  all 
haste  out  of  that  valley  before  the  advancing  host  of 
Charlemagne,  and  fled  away  to  Spain. 


CHAPTER  IV 
THE  DEATH  OF  ROLAND 

NOW  at  length,  when  all  the  pagan  host  had 
vanished  among  the  mountains,  Roland  came  to 
himself  and  found  that  he  was  left  alone  among  the 
dead.  Scarce  could  he  drag  himself  to  his  feet  for  the 
anguish  of  the  wound  in  his  head,  but  he  looked  around 
upon  that  dreadful  field  and  said,  "  The  rear-guard  will 
give  in  its  own  account  to  Charles  when  he  comes." 

He  came  to  the  place  where  Oliver  lay,  and  took  him 
gently  in  his  arms  and  made  lament  over  him,  saying, 
"  Dear  comrade,  thou  wast  ever  a  kindly  friend  to  me, 
and  I  repent  me  that  once  and  once  only  I  listened  not 
to  thy  wise  counsel.  And  now,  God  rest  thy  soul,  for 
no  man  ever  had  truer  comrade  than  thou." 

As  he  spoke  thus,  he  heard  a  faint  voice  near  by,  and 
turning  saw  the  brave  old  Archbishop  Turpin  d}'ing  on 
the  ground  ;  and  in  the  midst  of  his  great  suffering  he 
raised  his  shaking  hands  and  blessed  the  dead  who  lay 
around  him  in  the  name  of  God.  And  to  Roland  he 
cried,  "  Dear  son,  thank  God  the  field  is  ours  this  day ! " 
and  with  that  he  clasped  his  hands  in  prayer  and  died. 

Now  Roland  knew  that  his  own  end  was  near,  so  he 
crept  away  to  a  green  mound  on  which  were  four  marble 
steps  and  lay  down  on  the  lowest  of  them,  with  his  horn 


54      STORIES  FROM   OLD   FRENCH   ROMANCE 

in  one  hand  and  Durandal,  his  good  sword,  in  the  other. 
And  as  he  lay  there  fainting  in  his  pain,  a  certain 
thievish  Moor  came  by,  thinking  to  plunder  the  dead  ; 
who,  seeing  the  glitter  of  the  jewelled  hilt  of  Durandal, 
put  out  his  hand  and  tried  to  draw  it  horn  the  sheath. 
Just  as  he  did  so  Roland  opened  his  eyes,  and  seeing 
the  thief  bending  over  him  with  the  sword  in  his  hand, 
raised  his  horn  and  dealt  the  fellow  such  a  blow  that  he 
fell,  and  never  moved  again. 

Then  he  took  Durandal  in  his  own  hands,  praying 
that  it  might  never  fall  into  those  of  his  enemies,  and 
he  caressed  the  good  blade,  saying,  "  O  Durandal,  how 
keen  of  edge  thou  art  1  How  many  lands  hast  thou 
conquered  for  Charles  since  first  he  girt  thee  at  my  side! 
And  now,  though  it  grieves  me  sore,  I  would  rather 
break  thee  to  atoms  than  that  pagan  hands  should  turn 
thee  against  France." 

Then,  exerting  all  his  remaining  strength,  Roland 
smote  the  blade,  point  downwards,  upon  the  marble 
step.  The  hard  stone  splintered,  but  the  blade  remained 
unhurt — not  even  its  edge  was  turned.  He  smote  the 
second  step,  but  though  the  blade  cut  through  the 
stone,  it  was  neither  blunted  nor  broken.  Then  he 
struck  the  third  step  with  all  his  might,  so  that  the 
stone  fell  to  powder,  but  the  blade  rebounded,  quite  un- 
hurt. And  Roland  repented  that  he  had  tried  to  break 
the  blade  and  said,  "O  Durandal,  I  am  to  blame,  for 
God  will  keep  thee  safe  for  Charles  and  for  France." 

So  having  laid  his  sword  and  horn  beneath  him. 
Roland  fell  back  under  the  shade  of  a  pine  tree  and 
turned  his  face  towards  Spain,  that  men  might  know  he 
died  a  conqueror.  Many  things  he  remembered  in  that 
last  hour,  and  much  he  thought  of  Charlemagne,  his 
hero  and  his  lord,  who  had  brought  him  up  from  in- 
fancy, "  He  will  see  that  I  have  rendered  good  account," 
he  murmured  as  he  looked  around  at  the  heaps  of  slain. 
He  thought  of  his  beloved  France,  the  land  he  held  so 


STORY   OF   THE   DEATH    OF   ROLAND         55 

dear,  and  his  heart  grew  very  tender.  Then  lifted  he 
his  hands  to  heaven  and  closed  his  eyes ;  his  soul  de- 
parted from  his  weary  body  and  so  he  died. 

Fast  and  faster  still  rode  the  host  of  Charlemagne 
as  the  mist  came  down  and  the  night  began  to  fall. 
Again  and  again  his  clarions  sounded  from  peak  to 
peak,  but  there  came  no  answering  call.  Down  through 
the  gloom  they  rode,  and  saw  the  silent  field  and  the 
quiet  dead  ;  and  all  those  who  saw  it  lifted  up  their 
voices  and  wept. 

But  when  the  Emperor  found  the  body  of  Roland, 
his  well-beloved,  whom  he  had  nourished  from  a  babe, 
his  heart  was  wellnigh  broken,  and  he  sat  upon  the 
ground  beside  him  and  wept  very  bitterly.  And  even 
while  he  mourned  came  Duke  Naymes  to  him,  saying, 
"  As  I  came  down  the  pass  I  saw  a  cloud  of  dust  rising 
from  the  other  side  of  the  mountains.  Methinks  it  was 
the  pagan  host  fleeing  to  Saragossa." 

Then  Charlemagne  immediately  arose,  and  having 
left  four  knights  in  Roncesvalles  to  guard  the  dead,  he 
set  out  after  the  foemen. 

Hard  and  fast  rode  the  host,  and  came  upon  the 
Moors  in  a  field,  where  they  were  hemmed  in  by  a  wide 
river  on  one  side  and  the  Franks  on  the  other.  And 
there  Charlemagne  cut  the  pagan  army  to  pieces  ;  none 
escaped  save  only  Marsilius  and  a  few  of  his  followers, 
who  had  gone  by  a  different  way  into  Saragossa.  Nor 
did  he  escape  for  long  ;  for  after  Charles  had  returned 
to  Roncesvalles  to  bury  his  dead,  he  returned  to 
Saragossa  and  slew  King  Marsilius,  and  broke  down 
the  gates  of  the  city  and  took  possession  of  all  Spain. 

Thus  was  the  death  of  Roland  in  the  valley  of 
Roncesvalles  avenged.  As  for  the  traitor  Ganelon,  he 
was  torn  to  pieces  by  wild  horses,  for  that  he  had  done 
the  deadliest  sin  of  all,  and  had  betrayed  his  master's 
host  and  the  fair  land  of  France  into  the  hands  of  the 
enemy. 


THE   FIFTH   STORY 

THE   STORY    OF   WILLIAM   AND 
THE   WERWOLF 

(From  the  French  of  William  of  Palenne) 

CHAPTER   I 

HOW  WILLIAM   WAS   CARRIED   OFF 

THERE  once  lived  in  the  land  of  Apulia  a  certain 
king  whose  name  was  Embrons,  and  whose  wife 
was  the  daughter  of  the  Emperor  of  Greece.  At  the 
time  this  story  begins  they  had  one  son,  a  little  lad  of 
four  years  old,  whose  name  was  William.  He  was  a 
very  beautiful  child  in  those  days,  and  dearly  loved  by 
his  father  and  mother.  And  in  order  that  he  might  be 
well  looked  after  in  every  way,  he  was  put  into  the 
charge  of  two  ladies  of  the  Court,  who  seemed  to  be 
everything  that  his  parents  could  desire. 

Now  King  Embrons  had  a  very  wicked  brother,  who 
had  a  strong  desire  to  reign  in  his  stead.  To  that  end 
he  made  a  plot  to  poison  both  the  King  and  his  son  ; 
and  this  plot  he  set  on  foot  by  persuading  the  two 
ladies  who  were  his  attendants  to  put  an  end  to  the 
little  Prince. 

One  day  the  King,  the  Queen,  and  their  little  son 
William,  as  they  were  making  a  stay  at  the  town  of 
Palermo,  happened  to  enter  a  beautiful  orchard,  sur- 
rounded by  a  high  wall.  But,  although  they  had  no 
idea  of  it,  this  place  was  infested  with  dangerous  wild 
beasts. 

The  child  William  had  begun  to  gather  flowers,  and 
was  sporting  about  from  path  to  path,  when,  before  the 

56 


STORY   OF   WILLIAM   AND   THE   WERWOLF     57 

very  eyes  of  the  parents,  a  huge  wolf  leapt  in  at 
the  open  gate,  plunged  through  the  bushes,  and  as 
they,  horror-stricken,  ran  aside  to  avoid  it,  snatched  up 
the  child  in  his  mouth  and  noiselessly  made  off. 

A  terrible  cry  arose  from  the  Queen  as  she  saw  her 
darling  disappear.  The  King,  half  mad  with  grief,  sent 
for  horses,  and  galloped  off  in  the  direction  the  wolf 
had  taken,  and  was  quickly  followed  by  almost  all  the 
inhabitants  of  the  town. 

Harder  and  harder  rode  the  King,  but  the  wolf,  with 
his  great  leaps  and  bounds,  travelled  faster  still,  and 
though  he  often  heard  the  wails  of  the  terrified  boy, 
the  King  could  not  overtake  him. 

At  length  they  approached  the  Straits  of  Messina, 
and  caught  sight  of  the  wolf  standing  at  the  brink  of 
the  water. 

There  they  made  sure  they  would  seize  him,  but,  to 
their  dismay,  the  creature  leapt  into  the  water  and  soon 
was  lost  to  sight. 

Very  sad  and  sorrowful  was  King  Embrons  as  he 
returned  to  Palermo  city,  which  was  filled  with  lamenta- 
tion and  woe  for  the  loss  of  the  Prince.  The  Queen 
mourned  for  him  all  day  long,  saying,  "  Little  son, 
sweet  love,  tender  lips,  rosy  colour,  who  would  believe 
that  beast  could  drown  you  ?  Where  are  now  thy 
beautiful  eyes,  so  innocent  and  clear,  thy  fair  forehead, 
thy  hair  like  fine-drawn  gold  ?  What  is  become  of 
thee  ?     Now  art  thou  food  for  that  horrible  wolf" 

Meantime  the  wolf  had  carried  the  child  in  his 
mouth  both  by  day  and  by  night  without  a  pause,  until 
he  reached  a  great  forest  in  the  neighbourhood  of 
Rome.  There,  being  by  this  time  very  weary,  he  rested 
for  eight  days,  providing  the  boy  the  while  with  every- 
thing he  could  possibly  need  for  his  comfort.  First  he 
made  a  den,  hidden  away  among  thick  green  bushes, 
and  lined  it  with  grass  and  ferns.  Then  each  day 
he   brought   him    food,   bread   and    meat,   from    some 


58      STORIES   FROM   OLD   FRENCH   ROMANCE 

mysterious  source,  and  all  night  long  he  lay  close 
beside  him,  so  that  the  child  could  nestle  against  his 
shaggy  coat  and  be  kept  quite  warm.  By  this  time 
William  had  quite  laid  aside  all  his  terror  of  the  gentle 
creature,  and  was  well  pleased  to  be  carried  about  and 
tended  by  him. 

Then  one  day  the  wolf  set  off  to  seek  for  food,  leav- 
ing the  boy  safe  and  happy  in  his  shady  den. 

Now  there  lived  in  the  forest  an  old  cowherd,  who, 
on  that  selfsame  day,  happened  to  sit  down  near  the 
wolfs  den,  in  order  to  mend  his  shoe.  Meantime  the 
little  boy  within  had  grown  weary  of  being  left  alone, 
and  looking  out,  he  saw  bushes  and  trees  so  green  and 
fair  in  the  May  sunshine  and  heard  birds  singing  so 
lustily,  that  he  crept  out  and  began  to  play  and  to 
gather  flowers. 

But  the  cowherd's  dog  quickly  spied  him  and  began 
to  bark  and  leap  up  at  him.  At  this  William,  scream- 
ing with  fright,  ran  back  to  the  den ;  but  the  cowherd 
had  heard  the  noise  of  the  child,  and  following  the  dog, 
came  to  the  opening  of  the  place ;  and  inside,  as  he 
peeped,  he  saw  a  beautiful  little  boy  richly  dressed  in 
cloth  of  gold. 

Greatly  wondering  at  this,  the  cowherd  rebuked  the 
dog  for  his  noise  and  tried  to  persuade  the  little  one  to 
come  out.  He  offered  him  flowers  and  apples  and  all 
such  things  as  children  love,  and  at  length  William 
crept  out  of  the  cave  and  ran  up  to  him.  Then  the 
cowherd  took  him  in  his  arm,  kissed  him  and  thanked 
God  that  he  had  found  so  beautiful  a  treasure,  and 
carried  him  home  to  his  wife. 

"  What  is  your  name,  pretty  one  ?  "  he  asked  ;  and  the 
child  replied,  "  I  am  called  William." 

Now  the  cowherd  and  his  wife  had  no  children,  which 
grieved  them  very  much,  so  that  they  gladly  received 
the  boy,  and  determined  to  adopt  him  for  their  own. 

Meantime   the   wolf  returned   to  the  den,  carrying 


STORY   OF  WILLIAM   AND  THE  WERWOLF     59 

food  for  the  child  ;  but  when  he  entered  he  found  it 
empty  as  a  last  year's  nest.  Overcome  with  grief,  he 
howled  aloud,  rent  his  skin,  and  fell  down  in  a  kind 
of  fit. 

When  he  recovered  he  began  to  examine  the  ground 
very  carefully  until  he  found  the  track  of  the  cowherd, 
and  following  it  up,  soon  came  to  a  small  cottage. 

Creeping  up  to  the  tiny  window,  he  looked  through 
and  saw  the  cowherd's  wife  sitting  with  the  thild  on 
her  lap,  bathing  him  and  giving  him  sweet  milk  for  his 
supper.  When  he  saw  this  and  knew  how  well  they 
were  caring  for  the  child,  the  wolf  turned  aside  and 
went  upon  his  lonely  way. 

Now  this  animal,  as  you  may  have  guessed,  was  no 
ordinary  one,  but  was  indeed  a  "  werwolf,"  that  is  to 
say,  a  man  changed  into  a  beast. 

He  was  the  son  of  the  King  of  Spain,  and  his  real 
name  was  Prince  Alphonso.  When  his  mother  died, 
his  father,  the  King,  had  married  a  lady  named  Braunde, 
a  princess  indeed,  but  also  a  witch. 

Now  Braunde  was  jealous  of  the  beauty  and  good- 
ness of  Prince  Alphonso,  and  fearing  that  her  own  child 
would  never  be  king,  she  plotted  to  work  harm  to  her 
stepson.  So  she  made  a  very  powerful  ointment,  and 
with  this  she  anointed  him  one  day,  with  the  result  that 
he  became  a  werwolf  Yet  his  heart  remained  that  of 
a  man,  tender  and  kind,  so  that  he  suffered  all  the  more. 
At  first  he  tried  to  spring  on  Braunde  and  kill  her,  that 
she  might  do  no  similar  injury  to  his  father;  but  she 
cried  to  the  servants  to  help  her  ^'gainst  a  fierce  beast. 
At  that  the  werwolf  fled  away  to  the  land  of  Apulia, 
and  Braunde  told  his  father  that  Alphonso  had  been 
drowned  by  accident  as  he  was  bathing. 


60      STORIES   FROM   OLD   FRENCH    ROMANCE 

CHAPTER   II 
THE  ADVENTURE   OF  THE   TWO   WHITE    BEARS 

THE  wife  of  the  cowherd  treated  William  with  the 
greatest  kindness,  so  that  he  grew  up  happy  and 
healthy  as  a  child  should  be.  He  learnt  to  shoot  well, 
to  bring  home  plenty  of  rabbits  and  hares  for  supper, 
and  to  know  the  ways  of  all  animals  in  sickness  and  in 
health.  Sports,  too,  he  had  in  plenty  with  the  children 
of  neighbouring  cowherds,  and  his  generous  spirit  soon 
made  him  a  great  favourite  with  all. 

Now  one  day  the  Emperor  of  Rome  was  hunting  a 
great  boar  in  that  forest,  and  it  so  happened  that  he 
lost  his  way  and  went  riding  along  looking  for  some  one 
to  direct  him.  Suddenly  he  saw  in  front  of  him  a 
werwolf  chasing  a  deer,  and  so  rode  hard  after  them, 
hoping  to  kill  one  or  both.  But  the  animals  dis- 
appeared in  the  undergrowth,  and  in  their  place  he  saw 
in  the  pathway  a  very  noble-looking  boy,  so  fair  to  look 
upon  that  the  Emperor  said  to  himself,  "  Surely  this 
child  has  come  from  fairyland  ! " 

Pulling  up  his  horse,  he  asked  the  boy  his  name,  and 
who  were  his  kith  and  kin.  And  William,  for  he  it  was, 
replied  that  he  knew  not  who  they  were,  but  that  he 
lived  with  a  cowherd  and  his  wife,  whom  he  dearly 
loved. 

Then  the  Emperor  sent  for  the  cowherd,  who  came  in 
fear,  knowing  what  the  end  might  be. 

"Is  the  child  yours?"  asked  the  Emperor;  and  so 
the  old  man  told  him  the  whole  story,  saying  that  none 
knew  from  whence  he  came. 

"  Then  the  boy  shall  go  with  me,"  said  the  Emperor. 

Deeply  grieved  was  the  cowherd  at  these  words,  but 
he  dared  not  refuse,  though  he  cared  little  for  the 
Emperor's  promise  to  reward  him,  when  he  thought  of 


STORY    OF   WILLIAM    AND   THE    WERWOLF    6l 

losing  the  child.  Calling  William  aside,  he  bade  him 
farewell,  and  gave  him  three  pieces  of  advice. 

First,  to  be  no  teller  of  tales. 

Second,  to  always  take  the  part  of  a  poor  man. 

Third,  to  be  always  faithful  and  fair  of  speech. 

Then  he  set  William  upon  the  Emperor's  horse,  so 
that  the  boy  in  his  pleasure  at  riding  so  high  forgot  to 
grieve  at  parting  from  him. 

So  the  Emperor  rode  away  with  William,  and  the 
cowherd  returned  with  the  news  to  his  wife,  who  wept 
and  \rould  not  be  comforted  because  she  had  lost  the 
child. 

The  Emperor  of  Rome  had  one  fair  daughter  named 
Melior,  to  whom  he  brought  young  William,  saying, 
"  Here  is  a  rich  present  I  found  for  thee  in  the  forest!" 
Then  they  took  the  boy  and  dressed  him  in  beautiful 
clothes,  and  he  became  Melior's  squire.  As  he  grew 
older  and  came  to  man's  estate,  he  so  far  excelled  the 
rest  of  the  youth  of  Rome  in  looks  and  manners,  as 
well  as  in  courage,  that  the  young  Princess  fell  very 
deeply  in  love  with  him  and  he  with  her.  But  knowing 
how  angry  the  Emperor  would  be  if  his  daughter 
married  any  one  but  a  king,  or  at  least  a  prince,  they 
were  forced  to  plight  their  troth  to  one  another  in 
secret. 

In  those  days  the  Duke  of  Saxony  made  war  on 
Rome,  and  m  this  war  William  fought  so  well  that  he 
was  made  a  knight.  Soon  after  he  had  conquered  the 
Duke  and  taken  him  prisoner,  an  embassy  appeared 
from  Greece  asking  that  a  marriage  might  be  arranged 
between  Melior  and  the  son  of  the  Emperor  of  that 
land. 

A  great  assembly  was  held,  at  which  the  two  em- 
perors met  and  talked  about  the  matter,  and  agreed 
that  the  wedding  should  be  held  as  soon  as  possible. 
But  the  Princess  and  William  were  filled  with  dismay 
when  they  heard  what  was  proposed  ;  and  after  much 


62      STORIES   FROM   OLD    FRENCH    ROMANCE 

thought  they  decided  that  the  only  thing  to  be  done 
was  to  run  away  from  the  palace  and  to  keep  in  hiding 
till  all  idea  of  the  marriage  was  over.  The  great 
difficulty  was  how  to  get  out  of  the  city  unseen. 

With  the  help  of  Melior's  waiting-maid  they  deter- 
mined to  disguise  themselves  as  animals.  There  had 
been  a  great  hunt  that  day,  and  the  maid  was  able 
easily  to  procure  the  skins  of  two  white  bears,  in  which 
5he  sewed  each  of  them  up.  That  same  evening,  there- 
fore, two  grizzly  bears  were  seen  to  pass  into  the  belt  of 
forest  that  lay  near  the  palace ;  but  no  one  guessed  for 
a  moment  who  they  really  were. 

For  many  hours  they  wandered  through  this  forest, 
until  they  were  too  tired  to  stand  upright,  and  sank 
down  exhausted  with  fatigue  and  want  of  food  under- 
neath a  tree.  Now,  although  they  knew  it  not,  the 
werwolf  had  watched  and  followed  them  all  the  way, 
and  seeing  their  condition,  he  now  galloped  off  to  find 
food.  Presently,  on  a  highway  near  the  forest,  he  came 
upon  a  man  who  carried  some  bread  and  some  boiled 
beef  in  a  bag.  In  a  flash  the  werwolf  sprang  upon  him, 
seized  the  bag  and  made  off  with  it.  Hurrying  back  to 
the  two  fugitives,  he  laid  the  bag  before  them,  and  dis- 
appeared before  William  could  exclaim  in  astonishment 
at  seeing  him  again. 

Presently,  as  they  were  joyfully  eating,  he  appeared 
before  them  again,  dropped  two  flagons  of  wine  at  their 
feet,  and  ran  away  once  more.  In  this  way,  by  dint  of 
carrying  off  food  from  travellers  and  bringing  it  to  them, 
the  werwolf  kept  Melior  and  William  excellently  fed. 
But  still  they  had  to  be  very  careful.  They  slept 
generally  in  the  daytime,  and  travelled  by  night,  going 
on  all  fours  that  they  might  not  betray  the  fact  that 
they  were  human  beings. 

Meantime,  when  he  heard  of  their  escape,  the  anger 
of  the  Emperor  knew  no  bounds.  He  sent  men  out  in 
every  direction  to  hunt  for  them,  but  they  could  nowhere 


STORY   OF   WILLIAM    AND  THE   WERWOLF    63 

be  found.  Most  of  his  men  were  glad  this  was  so, 
for  they  could  not  endure  to  think  that  William,  whom 
they  all  loved,  should  be  in  danger  at  the  Emperor's 
hands.  At  length  the  latter,  who  feared  that  the 
Greeks  would  make  war  upon  him  because  the  marriage 
had  not  been  accomplished,  heard  that  two  bears  had 
been  seen  escaping  from  the  garden  on  the  very  night 
that  two  skins  were  missing  from  the  kitchen.  Hounds 
were  sent  out  at  once  to  track  them  down ;  but  as  the 
animals  got  on  their  scent,  the  werwolf  suddenly 
appeared  before  them  in  the  way.  Immediately  they 
followed  him,  and  were  led  by  him  a  long  distance 
in  quite  a  different  direction  from  that  which  the  fugi- 
tives had  taken.  Then,  having  thrown  them  completely 
off  the  scent,  the  werwolf  slipped  away  and  returned  to 
Melior  and  William. 

He  next  made  the  lovers  understand  that  they  must 
now  follow  him  as  their  guide.  At  first  they  had  been 
terrified  at  his  appearance,  but  his  constant  kindness  in 
providing  them  with  food  had  quite  won  their  hearts, 
and  they  now  trusted  him  completely.  So  he  brought 
them  into  the  land  of  Apulia,  where,  finding  they  were 
near  an  ancient  city,  they  hid  themselves  in  a  quarry 
and  slept  there,  while  the  werwolf  kept  guard. 

When  morning  dawned,  the  Werwolf  went  off  to  find 
food  ;  and  during  his  absence,  some  workmen  came  to 
the  quarry  and  found  therein  two  white  bears  fast  asleep. 
They  at  once  remembered  the  hue  and  cry  raised  by  the 
Emperor  of  Rome,  and,  without  waking  them,  went  off 
to  the  provost  of  the  town  and  told  him  of  their 
discovery. 

The  provost  guessed  directly  who  they  were,  and 
calling  together  a  large  band  of  men  and  horses,  set  off 
for  the  quarry,  taking  with  him  his  little  son  to  sec  the 
fray. 

Meantime  the  fugitives  had  roused  themselves,  and 
looking  towards  the  city,  they  saw  a  number  of  horsemen 


64      STORIES   FROM   OLD    FRENCH    ROMANCE 

riding  in  the  direction  of  the  quarry.  Filled  with 
alarm,  they  hurried  away,  but  when  he  found  that 
their  shouting  pursuers  were  gaining  fast  upon  them, 
William  begged  Melior  to  show  herself  in  her  proper 
form,  so  that  no  harm  might  befall  her.  This,  how- 
ever, she  refused  to  do,  as  she  knew  that  William 
might  be  killed,  and  so  she  declared  that  she  would  die 
with  him. 

Just  at  that  minute  the  werwolf  appeared  on 
the  scene.  With  one  bound  he  sprang  upon  the  pro- 
vost's horse,  and  snatching  at  the  child  who  was  in 
front  of  him,  ran  off  with  it  in  his  mouth.  At  once  the 
whole  attention  of  the  troop  was  turned  upon  the  wolf, 
and  all  of  the  men  followed  the  provost,  who  galloped 
hard  after  the  animal,  forgetting  the  very  existence  of 
the  two  white  bears. 

All  day  long  the  werwolf  kept  them  in  pursuit, 
sometimes  appearing  at  the  top  of  a  hill,  sometimes  lost 
to  sight  on  the  other  side.  The  screams  of  the  boy 
spurred  on  the  father  still  faster  to  his  rescue,  but  not 
until  they  were  many  a  long  mile  from  the  two  disguised 
lovers  did  the  wolf  pause.  Then  he  dropped  the  child 
gently  on  the  ground  where  the  horsemen  would  be 
sure  to  find  him,  and  galloped  off  on  a  side-track  to 
William  and   Melior. 

They,  meantime,  had  travelled  fast  and  far  from  that 
dangerous  region,  and  had  taken  off  their  bearskins  to 
avoid  discovery.  At  evening-time,  when  they  were 
quite  exhausted,  the  werwolf  appeared  before  them 
carrying  a  bag  of  food  in  his  mouth.  He  too  was  so 
worn  out  with  fatigue,  that  he  lay  down  near  them 
under  a  tree  and  at  once  fell  fast  asleep. 


STORY   OF   WILLIAM    AND   THE   WERWOLF     65 


CHAPTER   III 

THE  ADVENTURE  OF  THE  HART  AND 
THE  HIND 

THIS  last  adventure  had  ended  in  such  a  narrow 
escape  for  William  and  Melior  that  they  began 
to  consider  what  safer  means  of  disguise  they  could 
contrive,  now  that  most  people  knew  the  secret  of  the 
two  white  bears. 

While  they  were  thinking  it  over,  the  werwolf,  who 
had  gone  away  at  daylight,  appeared  again  before 
them,  dragging  behind  him  the  body  of  a  fresh-killed 
hart  of  very  unusual  size.  As  they  stood  wondering 
at  it,  he  disappeared  again,  to  return  ere  long  with  a 
large  dead  hind.  Then,  sitting  back  on  his  haunches, 
he  gazed  eagerly  at  them  until  at  length  they  under- 
stood his  plan.  At  once  they  skinned  the  creatures 
and  sewed  each  other  up  in  the  skins,  after  which  they 
went  their  way  disguised  as  hart  and  hind. 

The  werwolf  now  became  their  guide  over  William's 
native  country,  though  the  latter  little  knew  it  at  the 
time.  At  that  period  the  land  all  lay  waste  because  of 
the  great  war.  For  during  the  last  few  years  Embrons, 
William's  father.  King  of  Apulia  and  Sicily,  had  died, 
and  his  wife,  William's  mother,  ruled  the  land.  Mean- 
time William's  only  sister  Florence,  just  three  years 
younger  than  himself,  had  grown  up  to  a  fair  maiden- 
hood, and  had  been  sought  in  marriage  by  the  son  of 
the  King  of  Spain. 

Now  this  young  man  was  the  werwolf's  stepbrother. 
When  he  found  that  Florence  would  have  nothing  to 
say  to  him,  the  King  of  Spain  invaded  the  country  and 
besieged  the  Queen  in  the  Sicilian  town  of  Palermo. 

Now  the  Queen  was  very  sad,  for  she  had  neither 
husband  nor  son  to  advise  and  help  her.  So  she  asked 
S 


66      STORIES   FROM   OLD   FRENCH    ROMANCE 

the  invaders  to  grant  her  a  truce  of  fourteen  days,  at 
the  end  of  which  time  she  promised  to  surrender  the 
town  on  condition  that  she  and  her  daughter  might 
depart  in  safety.  But  in  her  own  heart  she  hoped  and 
trusted  that  before  the  end  of  the  appointed  time,  help 
would  come  from  her  father  the  Emperor  of  Greece. 

The  King  of  Spain,  however,  refused  to  grant  her 
conditions  ;  so  she  and  the  Princess  Florence  retired  to 
their  palace  in  great  doubt  and  distress. 

Meanwhile  the  werwolf  had  guided  the  hart  and 
the  hind  to  Reggio,  where,  in  order  to  reach  Sicily, 
they  would  be  obliged  to  cross  the  Straits.  They  lay 
hidden  till  nightfall,  but  when  all  was  dark  they  made 
their  way  down  to  the  ships  in  the  harbour,  and  there 
the  werwolf,  creeping  quietly  hither  and  thither,  found 
one  ready  to  sail,  on  board  of  which  all  the  sailors  were 
asleep. 

Very  quietly  they  crept  on  board  and  hid  themselves 
behind  casks  of  wine.  Presently  the  wind  began  to 
rise,  the  sailors  awoke  and  set  sail,  and  the  ship  raced 
merrily  over  the  waves.  At  dawn  they  were  close  to 
the  shores  of  Sicily,  and  when  he  saw  this,  the  werwolf 
sprang  from  his  hiding-place,  leapt  across  the  deck,  and 
disappeared  over  the  side. 

The  sailors,  greatly  excited,  seized  their  oars  and 
struck  at  him  ;  one,  indeed,  hit  him  so  hard  that  he  sank 
to  the  bottom,  but  quickly  recovering  himself,  he  rose 
again  to  the  surface  and  swam  ashore. 

The  men  immediately  threw  out  a  plank  to  the 
landing-place  and  ran  after  him,  leaving  only  a  bare- 
legged boy  on  board.  Now  all  this  had  been  carefully 
planned  by  the  werwolf  to  distract  the  attention  of 
the  seamen  from  William  and  Melior,  who  now  came 
up  on  deck.  But  the  bare-legged  boy  was  terrified  to 
see  a  hart  and  a  hind  walking  upright  upon  their  hind- 
legs,  and  in  his  dismay  he  struck  at  Melior  with  an  oar, 
so    that    she   would    have    fallen    overboard   had    not 


STORY   OF  WILLIAM    AND  THE   WERWOLF    67 

William  caught  her  in  his  arms  and  carried  her  ashore. 
Once  there,  they  hastened  to  find  a  hiding-place,  and 
as  they  hurried  along,  much  disturbed  in  mind,  they 
said  one  to  the  other,  "  May  no  harm  have  come  to  our 
beloved  werwolf ! " 

Before  long,  however,  the  werwolf,  safe  and  sound, 
was  with  them  once  again,  but  only  in  order  to  warn 
them  of  approaching  danger.  For  the  bare-legged  boy 
had  been  so  astounded  to  see  the  hart  pick  up  the 
hind  and  run  off  with  her,  that  he  had  told  the  sailors 
of  his  strange  experience  on  their  return,  and  so  every 
one  was  on  the  look  out  for  them.  Therefore  they  left 
the  neighbourhood  in  haste  and  followed  the  werwolf 
to  Palermo,  the  very  same  place  from  which  William,  as 
a  tiny  boy,  had  been  carried  off  by  the  werwolf. 

It  was  in  this  city  of  Palermo,  you  will  remember, 
that  the  mother  and  sister  of  William  were  being  be- 
sieged by  the  King  of  Spain. 

That  night,  and  for  several  others,  the  hart  and  the 
hind  lay  hidden  in  a  park  close  by  the  palace,  and  the 
werwolf  brought  them  meat  and  drink. 

The  first  night  on  which  they  there  lay  hidden,  the 
Queen-mother  of  William  had  a  curious  dream.  She 
thought  she  was  walking  in  the  park  with  her  daughter, 
when  she  saw,  fighting  with  one  another,  a  hundred 
thousand  leopards  and  bears.  Then  there  came  a  wer- 
wolf and  two  white  bears  and  attacked  the  leopards,  but 
suddenly  the  white  bears  changed  into  a  hart  and  a 
hind  wearing  golden  crowns.  By  this  time  the 
leopards,  being  conquered,  had  fled  away.  Then,  in 
her  dream,  she  went  up  to  a  high  turret  in  the  palace,  and 
stretched  her  right  arm  over  Rome,  her  left  over  Spain. 

When  the  Queen  awoke,  she  sent  for  a  wise  man  and 
asked  him  what  might  be  the  meaning  of  the  dream. 
And  after  much  thought  the  wise  man  answered  and 
said,  "  There  shall  come  a  knight  who  shall  be  king  of 
this   realm ;    and    a    werwolf   shall   deliver    the    King 


()8      STORIES    FROxM   OLD    FRENCH    ROMANCE 

of  Spain  from  a  great  danger.  Through  that  same 
werwolf  you  shall  hear  of  your  long-lost  son,  who  shall 
also  govern  Rome ;  and  your  daughter  shall  be  Queen 
of  Spain." 

These  words  gave  the  Queen  much  to  think  about, 
and  as  she  sat  gazing  from  her  chamber  window,  deep 
in  reflection,  she  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  hart  and  a 
hind  at  the  edge  of  the  forest.  To  her  great  surprise, 
she  saw  the  clothes  of  human  beings  peeping  out  through 
holes  in  their  skin,  for  the  sun,  blazing  fiercely  upon 
them,  had  cracked  their  hides. 

Much  alarmed,  the  Queen  again  sent  for  the  wise 
man,  who  had  not  yet  left  the  palace,  and  asked  him 
if  he  knew  what  this  strange  thing  meant. 

And  the  wise  man,  soothing  her  terror,  told  her  that 
these  were  two  runaway  lovers,  fled  from  Rome,  and 
that  it  would  be  greatly  to  her  advantage  if  she  would 
bring  them  in  secret  to  the  palace. 

To  this  the  Queen  at  once  agreed,  and,  sending  to  the 
kitchen  for  the  skin  of  a  newly  killed  hind,  she  dressed 
herself  in  it  and  crept  down  to  the  park.  She  was  able 
to  get  quite  near  them  before  they  noticed  her  among 
the  deer  always  grazing  in  that  spot ;  and  she  heard 
William  say  how  much  he  wished  that  the  Queen  knew 
that  he  was  a  knight  of  Rome,  and  that  she  would 
provide  him  with  a  horse  and  armour,  that  he  might 
fight  in  her  cause. 

At  this  the  Queen  presented  herself  before  them, 
saying  she  knew  who  they  were,  and  implored  William 
to  help  her  in  her  distress,  promising  that  if  he  would 
conquer  her  enemies  he  should  be  king  and  Melior 
queen. 

Very  gladly  did  William  agree  to  do  all  in  his  power 
for  her,  though  he  little  knew  that  she  was  his  own 
mother ;  and  forthwith  they  followed  her  to  the  castle, 
where  the  Queen  stripped  off  their  hides  and  herself  pre- 
pared fragrant  baths  and  rich  clothes  for  their  use.   When 


STORY   OF   WILLIAM   AND   THE   WERWOLF     69 

they  came  forth  into  her  bower  much  refreshed,  the 
Queen  was  considering  what  device  William  should 
bear  upon  his  shield.  They  consulted  together,  and 
William  decided  that  it  should  be  the  figure  of  a 
werwolf. 

Then  the  Queen  gave  orders  that  her  husband's 
horse,  upon  which  no  man  had  ridden  since  his  death, 
should  be  brought  out  for  him  into  the  courtyard.  And 
thereupon  a  strange  thing  occurred ;  for  the  horse 
remembered  William,  whom  everybody  else  had  for- 
gotten, and  knelt  down  before  him  as  he  approached 
and  stood  at  his  side.  And  at  this  all  the  people 
wondered  greatly. 


CHAPTER   IV 
HOW  THE  DREAM  OF  THE  QUEEN  CAME  TRUE 

WHEN  all  was  ready  for  the  conflict  with  the 
King  of  Spain,  William,  dressed  as  a  knight, 
rode  at  the  head  of  the  troops  of  Palermo,  encouraging 
them  with  brave  words  ;  and  he  was  the  first  to  strike  a 
blow. 

Now  the  Spaniards  who  were  against  him  were  thirty 
thousand  strong,  and  those  who  fought  for  the  Queen 
of  Palermo  but  few  in  number.  Yet,  encouraged  by 
their  leader,  they  fought  most  bravely,  and  before  long 
the  Spanish  steward,  a  man  of  high  rank  and  im- 
portance, fell  before  William's  onslaught. 

Still  more  fiercely  raged  the  fight,  and  presently 
William  found  himself  face  to  face  with  the  nephew  of 
the  slain  steward,  in  single  combat.  At  length  he  too 
was  overcome,  for  William  struck  him  dead  to  the 
ground  and  sent  his  horse  to  Mclior  as  a  present.  By 
this  time  the  Spaniards  had  lost  so  many  of  their 
warriors  that  the  rest  of  them  turned  and  fled. 


70      STORIES    FROM    OLD    FRENCH    ROMANCE 

Then  was  there  great  rejoicing  at  the  palace  for  i 
while.  But  while  William  and  Melior  were  sitting  a 
a  window  in  the  Queen's  bower  and  resting  after  th( 
conflict,  there  appeared  the  werwolf  just  outside,  whc 
held  up  his  forefeet  as  if  in  prayer,  bowed  to  William 
and  then  ran  quickly  away.  The  Queen,  much  surprised 
asked  the  reason  of  this  strange  thing,  but  all  Willian 
could  tell  her  was  that  to  them  it  was  a  sign  of  good. 

The  sight  of  the  werwolf  recalled  to  the  Queen  the 
story  of  her  little  son,  and  with  tears  she  told  it  ti 
William  and  Melior,  saying  that  she  had  been  tolc 
that  in  the  end  the  poor  child  had  been  drowned.  Thi; 
story  reminded  William  that  he  himself  had  been  founc 
in  a  forest  and  that  he  had  been  brought  thither  in  r 
mysterious  fashion,  but  since  the  Queen  was  sure  hei 
son  had  been  drowned,  he  would  not  recall  her  grief  b} 
talking  about  it,  and  only  promised  to  be  a  son  to  her  ii 
his  place. 

The  son  of  the  King  of  Spain  now  vowed  vengeance 
upon  William  for  his  defeat ;  and  since  he  knew  tha 
the  mishaps  of  Spain  were  entirely  due  to  him,  h( 
declared  that  he  would  have  the  head  of  the  man  whc 
bore  the  device  of  the  werwolf  on  his  shield,  or  takt 
him  alive  as  his  prisoner. 

Once  more  they  met  in  single  combat ;  but  before 
long  William  had  unhorsed  the  Prince  and  woulc 
have  struck  off  his  head  had  not  the  Spaniards  rushec 
forward  to  his  rescue.  Then  a  deadly  conflict  followed 
in  which  William's  troops  began  to  retreat,  but  once 
more  their  leader  managed  to  seize  the  Spanish  Prince 
and  to  bring  him  into  the  town  as  captive.  Then  wa; 
there  again  great  rejoicing  in  the  palace,  where  all  the 
ladies-in-waiting  hastened  to  disarm  the  prisoner.  Bu- 
William  hurried  to  join  Melior  and  the  Queen,  and  wa; 
in  the  act  of  embracing  his  wife  when  the  Queen  wa: 
struck  of  a  sudden  with  his  likeness  to  Embrons,  he: 
dead  husband. 


STORY   OF   WILLIAM    AND   THE   WERWOLF     71 

The  remembrance  made  her  weep,  and  her  heart 
began  to  cry  out  that  William  was  her  son ;  but  he,  not 
knowing  what  was  in  her  mind,  strove  to  cheer  her 
with  descriptions  of  the  victory.  And  as  they  talked 
together,  once  again  the  werwolf  came  up  to  the 
window,  knelt  and  bowed,  and  went  his  way. 

Now  when  the  King  of  Spain  heard  that  his  son  was 
taken  prisoner,  he  was  filled  with  wrath ;  and  especially 
did  his  anger  flame  out  when  he  knew  that  all  was 
owing  to  the  prowess  of  one  knight,  that  one  who  bore 
a  werwolf  on  his  shield.  Then  he  decreed  :  "  He  shall 
be  taken  and  hanged  before  the  city  gates,  and  the  city 
shall  be  burnt." 

So  the  two  armies  were  reassembled,  and  William 
addressed  his  troops  in  these  words :  "  To-day  shall  see 
the  end  of  this  warfare,  for  God  will  defend  the  right. 
My  work  shall  be  to  take  the  King  prisoner,  as  I  have 
already  done  his  son.     See  that  you  do  your  part." 

The  King,  on  the  other  side,  said,  "  Where  is  he  who 
bears  the  werwolf  on  his  shield?  Whosoever  brincrs 
him  to  me  shall  be  made  my  chief  steward." 

Then  the  fight  began,  and  soon  a  Spanish  soldier 
managed  to  wound  William,  but  was  killed  by  him 
before  he  could  do  him  further  hurt.  Before  long  the 
Spaniards  began  to  give  way,  while  many  threw  down 
their  weapons  and  ran  for  their  lives. 

But  William  and  his  troops  pursued  after  them,  and 
in  the  confusion  the  King  was  taken  and  brought  back 
in  triumph  to  the  palace.  Then  was  the  relief  and  joy 
of  the  Queen  so  great  that  she  would  have  knelt  before 
William  to  give  him  thanks,  had  he  not  caught  her  up, 
saying  that  an  Emperor's  daughter  must  not  kneel  to  a 
plain  soldier. 

A  great  banquet  was  then  made  ready.  On  one  side 
of  the  Queen  was  placed  the  King  of  Spain,  and  William 
on  the  other.  Then  the  Spanish  Prince  was  brought  in, 
and  before  he  would  seat  himself  at  meat,  both  he  and  his 


72      STORIES   FROM    OLD   FRENCH    ROMANCE 

father  confessed  that  they  had  treated  the  Queen  very 
ill  in  thus  besieging  her,  and  offered  to  make  amends 
by  holding  their  lands  in  future  only  as  her  tenants,  or 
by  doing  anything  else  she  pleased. 

While  she  was  giving  them  gracious  and  kindly 
answer,  the  door  of  the  hall  suddenly  opened  ;  the  wer- 
wolf entered,  and  going  up  to  the  raised  platform  where 
they  sat,  kissed  the  feet  of  the  King  of  Spain,  bowed 
to  the  Queen,  to  William,  and  to  the  young  Prince,  and 
A^ent  his  way. 

Upon  this  the  servants,  who  had  hitherto  stood 
motionless  with  astonishment  and  fear,  snatched  up 
their  weapons  and  made  as  though  they  would  destroy 
the  animal;  but  they  were  promptly  stopped  by  William, 
who  declared  that  if  any  one  hurt  the  werwolf  he 
would  kill  him  with  his  own  hands. 

The  sight  of  the  werwolf  at  once  recalled  to  the 
mind  of  the  King  of  Spain  the  story  of  the  fair  young 
son  who,  his  wife  had  declared,  was  drowned.  And  as 
he  sat  thus  plunged  in  thought,  William  asked  him 
why  he  sat  so  silent  in  the  midst  of  the  feast ;  to  which 
he  made  answer,  "  Once  on  a  time  I  wedded  a  fair  lady, 
and  to  us  was  born  a  sweet  son,  whom  we  named 
Alphonso.  But  my  wife  died  and  I  married  again, 
a  lady  lovely  to  look  upon  and  learned  withal,  and  our 
son  was  the  Prince  who  sits  before  you.  But  this  lady 
had  an  evil  mind,  and  because  of  her  jealousy  towards 
her  young  stepson  she  changed  him  into  a  werwolf,  who 
soon  afterwards,  she  told  me,  had  been  drowned  in  the 
sea.  Now  when  this  animal  came  before  me  and  kissed 
my  feet,  I  was  filled  with  a  strange  and  strong  desire  to 
embrace  him ;  so  that  I  would  fain  believe  that  he  may 
be  my  son  after  all,  though  my  wife  assured  me  that  he 
was  drowned." 

"  For  my  part,"  said  William,  "  I  firmly  believe  that 
your  suspicion  is  really  the  truth,  for  the  wolf  has  from 
the  first  shown  the  mind  of  a  good  and   noble  man. 


STORY    OF   WILLIAM    AND   THE   WERWOLF     73 

Now  if  your  wife  is  wise  in  witchcraft  she  can  surely 
turn  him  into  a  man  again.  Until  this  is  done  therefore 
you  shall  neither  of  you  be  set  free.  Send  at  once  and 
bid  the  Queen  come  hither,  or  I  will  myself  fetch  her 
by  force." 

So  the  King  sent  a  company  of  his  lords  with  an 
urgent  message  to  the  Queen  of  Spain.  But  when  she 
heard  that  the  King  wanted  her  to  turn  a  werwolf  into  a 
man,  and  that  only  thus  could  her  husband's  release  be 
earned,  she  fell  into  a  deep  swoon.  On  her  recovery 
she  set  off  for  Palermo  with  a  great  company,  and  was 
met  at  the  entrance  gates  of  the  city  by  the  Queen  and 
William,  together  with  her  husband  the  King  and  the 
Prince  of  Spain  her  son. 

They  brought  her  to  the  hall  and  led  her  to  a  seat  on 
the  dais,  where  she  sat  with  the  King  and  Prince  of 
Spain,  the  Queen  of  Palermo  and  her  daughter  Flor- 
ence, and  also  with  Melior  and  William,  while  a  great 
banquet  was  made  ready.  Meantime  the  werwolf  had 
been  brought  by  William  into  his  own  bedchamber, 
which  opened  out  of  the  hall ;  but  when  the  animal 
heard  the  voice  of  the  Queen  of  Spain,  he  rushed  into 
the  hall,  the  bristles  rising  on  his  neck  and  back,  and 
flew  at  her  with  howls,  snapping  with  his  teeth. 

She,  on  her  part,  screamed  for  help,  and  before  all 
that  company  confessed  that  she  had  deserved  death 
and  begged  for  life. 

Then  William  caught  the  werwolf  by  the  neck  and 
drew  him  back,  saying,  "  Trust  me,  dear  beast.  For 
your  sake  alone  I  sent  for  her.  And  now  unless  she 
takes  the  enchantment  off  you,  she  shall  be  burnt  as  a 
witch  ;  so  do  her  no  harm  in  the  meantime." 

And  the  werwolf  kissed  William's  feet  and  was  glad 
because  of  his  words. 

Then  the  Queen  of  Spain  rose  up  and  came  and 
knelt  before  the  werwolf,  saying,  "  Sweet  Alphonso, 
the   people   shall   soon    see  thy  handsome  face  again 


74      STORIES   FROM    OLD    FRENCH    ROMANCE 

Now  therefore  spare  my  life,  though  I  have  sinned 
greatly  against  thee." 

So  when  William  had  joined  her  in  asking  that 
mercy  might  be  shown,  the  werwolf  consented  to 
forgive  her  if  she  would  give  him  back  his  proper 
form. 

Going  into  a  private  room,  the  Queen  drew  forth 
a  magic  ring  in  which  was  a  stone  against  which  no 
witchcraft  could  avail ;  this  she  tied  by  a  red  silk  thread 
round  the  werwolf's  neck.  Then,  opening  a  book  of 
magic  spells,  she  read  them  over  him ;  and  then,  all  in 
a  moment,  he  turned  into  a  man  again.  With  great 
delight  William  took  him,  bathed  him,  and  dressed  him 
in  royal  clothes ;  and  when  this  was  done  he  embraced 
William  warmly,  saying,  "  I  am  that  werwolf  who 
saved  you  from  so  many  perils  " ;  and  William  returned 
his  embrace  with  the  deepest  affection. 

When  Prince  Alphonso  returned  to  the  hall,  looking 
now  like  a  very  noble  knight,  he  gave  them  all  courteous 
greeting,  and  bade  them  tell  him  the  origin  of  the  war 
which  was  the  cause  of  their  trouble. 

So  they  told  him  all  the  story,  and  when  they  had 
ended  he  laid  his  hand  on  William's  shoulder,  and 
turning  to  the  assembly,  said  — 

"  Lords  and  ladies,  you  will  be  surprised  to  hear  that 
this  young  knight,  who  has  remedied  all  your  woes,  has 
brought  also  help  and  safety  to  his  own  mother ! " 

Then  was  there  amazement  among  the  company,  and 
one  asked  another,  "  What  means  he  by  this  saying  ?  " 

So  Alphonso  said,  "  I  was  the  werwolf  who  carried 
off  young  William  as  a  child  to  save  him  from  the  plots 
of  his  wicked  uncle,  who  had  bribed  his  two  nurses  to 
poison  him." 

When  he  had  told  them  the  whole  story,  William, 
filled  with  gratitude  towards  Alphonso,  implored  him  to 
ask  for  some  reward  for  all  his  tender  care. 

So  Prince  Alphonso,  who  had  long  loved  in  secret  the 


STORY   OF   WILLIAM    AND   THE   WERWOLF     75 

Princess  Florence,  the  sister  of  William,  asked  that  he 
might  be  permitted  to  pay  his  court  to  her,  and  if  she 
were  willing,  to  become  her  husband. 

This  was  gladly  granted,  and  soon  the  joyful  tidings 
of  William's  return  were  spread  far  and  wide  through- 
out the  land.  And  first  there  came  to  William  those 
wicked  ladies  who  would  have  poisoned  him  as  a  child, 
dressed  in  sackcloth  and  begging  for  mercy,  which  he 
granted  them  on  condition  that  they  would  go  and  live 
in  a  hermitage  for  the  rest  of  their  lives. 

Then  messengers  were  sent  to  the  Emperor  of  Rome, 
asking  him  to  come  to  Palermo  for  the  grand  celebra- 
tion of  his  daughter  Melior's  wedding-feast. 

On  that  joyful  occasion  the  Princess  Florence  was 
also  married  to  Alphonso,  once  a  werwolf;  and  among 
the  most  honoured  guests  were  the  poor  cowherd  and  his 
wife,  who  had  been  William's  foster-parents,  to  whom 
he  now  gave  a  fine  castle,  and  made  the  old  man  an 
earl  and  his  wife  a  countess. 

As  the  years  passed  on  the  Emperor  of  Rome, 
Melior's  father,  died,  and  William  became  Emperor  in 
his  stead,  and  ruled  his  kingdom  well.  Alphonso,  too, 
in  time  became  King  of  Spain;  and  thus  was  the  Queen- 
mother's  dream  fulfilled  ;  for  William,  her  right  arm, 
was  Emperor  of  Rome,  and  Florence,  her  left,  was 
Queen  of  Spain. 

And  so  the  story  of  William  and  the  werwolf  comes 
to  an  end. 


THE   SIXTH   STORY 

THE   STORY   OF   THE   ENCHANTED 
KNIGHT 

(From  the  Epic  of  Charlemagne) 

CHAPTER   I 
HOW  OGIER   THE    DANE    BECAME   A    KNIGHT 

IN  the  golden  days  when  Charlemagne  lived  and 
ruled  upon  the  earth  there  reigned  over  Denmark 
a  certain  King  named  Godfrey.  And  it  so  fell  out  that 
the  wife  of  this  King  Godfrey  died  when  her  little  son 
Ogier  was  born,  so  that  the  women-in-waiting  took  him 
from  her  dead  arms  and  laid  him  in  a  silken  cradle  in 
pleasant  chamber  of  the  castle. 

Now  as  the  child  Ogier  lay  there,  quietly  sleeping, 
there  entered  the  room  and  drew  near  the  cradle  six 
beautiful  fairies,  each  bringing  a  gift  to  console  the 
motherless  babe  for  his  loss. 

The  first  took  the  child  in  her  arms,  and  kissing  his 
brow,  said,  "  My  gift  is  to  make  you  the  bravest  and 
strongest  knight  of  your  day." 

The  second  said,  "  I  will  see  to  it  that  you  have  the 
chance  of  many  battles  to  fight." 

"  And  I  grant  that  you  shall  always  be  the  conqueror 
of  your  foes,"  cried  the  third. 

"  My  gift  to  you  is  gentleness  and  courtesy,"  said  the 
fourth. 

"  And  mine  that  you  shall  be  dear  to  all  women  and 
happy  in  your  love,"  said  the  fifth. 

76 


STORY   OF  THE  ENCHANTED   KNIGHT         77 

But  Morgan  le  Fay,  who  was  the  Queen  of  Fairyland, 
held  him  long  in  her  embrace  before  she  spoke  at  all, 
and  then  she  said,  "  Dear  child,  there  remains  little  for 
me  to  give  after  these  promises  that  my  sisters  have 
made  to  you.  Yet  this  I  can  grant :  never  shall  you 
see  death  like  other  men,  but  when  you  have  finished 
a  noble  life  on  earth  you  shall  be  mine  for  ever  in 
Avalon,  the  Islands  of  the  Bk^t."  • 

With  these  words  the  people  of  Fairyland  flitted 
from  the  room  and  vanished. 

Now,  when  this  child  Ogier  had  grown  to  be  a 
handsome  boy  of  ten  years  old,  there  came  messengers 
to  his  father's  Court  from  the  Emperor  Charlemagne, 
who  bade  the  King  of  Denmark  appear  before  him  to 
do  homage  for  his  lands.  But  the  proud  King  Godfrey 
sent  answer  back,  "  Tell  Charles  I  hold  my  lands  by 
right  of  my  own  sword ;  and  if  he  doubt  it,  let  him 
come  and  see.  For  never  to  him  will  Godfrey  the  Dane 
do  homage." 

Then  Charlemagne  came  up  against  the  rebellious 
King  of  Denmark  with  all  his  mighty  host,  and  pre- 
vailed against  him.  And  Godfrey  was  forced  to 
promise  that  at  Easter  each  year  he  would  appear 
before  him  to  do  homage,  but  as  a  pledge  that  he  would 
keep  his  word  the  Emperor  made  demand  that  his  son, 
young  Ogier,  should  be  given  up  to  him  as  a  hostage. 
So  when  Godfrey  had  made  unwilling  agreement,  the 
boy  Ogier  was  carried  off  to  the  Emperor's  Court  and 
became  one  of  Charlemagne's  favourite  pages. 

For  three  years  running  did  Godfrey  of  Denmark 
appear  faithfully  at  the  Frankish  Court  to  do  homage 
for  his  lands,  but  after  that  time  he  failed  to  come  and 
was  seen  there  no  more.  For  he,  meantime,  had  mar- 
ried another  wife  and  had  now  another  son  ;  and  his 
wife  had  persuaded  him  to  break  his  pledge  to  Charle- 
magne, saying  within  herself  as  he  did  so,  "  When  the 
Emperor  hears  that  he  refuses  to  pay  homage,  then  will 


78      STORIES   FROM   OLD   FRENCH    ROMANCE 

he  put  Ogier  to  death,  and  my  son  shall  thereupon  be 
heir  to  the  throne  of  Denmark." 

Now,  according  to  custom,  when  Godfrey  failed  to 
appear  at  the  appointed  time,  the  hostage  Ogier  was 
thrown  into  prison,  in  the  castle  of  St.  Omer,  until  they 
should  find  out  why  his  father  the  King  of  Denmark 
had  broken  faith.  But  the  keeper  of  the  castle,  and 
his  wife,  and  her  fair  daughter  Bellisande,  loved  young 
Ogier  from  the  moment  they  set  eyes  upon  him,  and 
instead  of  casting  him  into  a  dungeon,  they  placed  him 
in  the  finest  rooms,  richly  furnished  and  covered  with 
tapestry,  and  treated  him  like  a  prince. 

Meantime  the  messengers  of  Charlemagne  had 
arrived  in  Denmark,  where  they  met  a  cruel  fate.  For 
Godfrey,  unmindful  of  his  son  as  of  his  broken  faith, 
slit  their  ears  and  noses,  shaved  their  heads,  and  sent 
them  back  disgraced. 

Filled  with  anger,  these  men  appeared  in  shameful 
wise  at  Charlemagne's  Court,  crying  aloud  for  ven- 
geance upon  Godfrey  of  Denmark  and  upon  Ogier 
his  son. 

So  the  Emperor,  bearing  of  their  woes,  sent  word  to 
the  castle  of  St.  Omer,  saying  that  Ogier  must  die. 

Then  was  the  keeper  of  that  castle  full  of  grief  for 
young  Ogier,  and  made  special  petition  to  Charlemagne 
that  at  least  the  lad  might  appear  before  him  at  his 
Court  and  be  told  why  he  must  die.  So  one  day,  as 
Charlemagne  was  making  festival  with  his  nobles,  came 
the  handsome  youth,  tall  and  fair-haired,  with  the 
keen  blue  eyes  of  the  North,  and  kneeling  at  the 
Emperor's  footstool,  laid  his  young  head  low  on  the 
ground  before  him  in  abasement  for  his  father's  pride 
and  periidy. 

Then  was  the  great  heart  of  Charlemagne  stirred  with 
pity  and  compassion,  and  he  would  fain  have  spared  the 
boy's  life  ;  but  the  messengers,  hot  for  vengeance,  cried 
out  upon  him  and  would  fain  have  slain  Ogier  as  he  knelt 


STORY   OF   THE   ENCHANTED    KNIGHT         79 

there,  had  not  Duke  Naymes,  that  mighty  lord  of  the 
Franks,  withstood  them. 

Meantime  the  lad  himself  stood  humbly  before  the 
Emperor  and  said,  "  Sire,  you  know  that  I  have  always 
rendered  you  willing  obedience  and  am  not  really  to 
blame  for  my  father's  fault.  Grant  me  my  life,  there- 
fore, and  I  will  atone  for  his  broken  faith  by  devoting 
my  days  henceforth  to  your  service.  As  for  these 
messengers,  to  them  also  I  will  atone,  not  by  my  death, 
but  by  a  life  of  devotion  to  you,  if  you  will  but  use  me 
as  your  own." 

Then  all  the  barons  who  stood  round  began  to  inter- 
cede with  the  King  on  behalf  of  the  lad  ;  and  while  they 
strove  with  him  and  with  the  messengers,  there  rode  a 
knight  in  haste  into  the  hall,  crying,  "  Tidings,  ill-tidings, 
my  lord  !  The  Saracens,  with  the  Grand  Turk  and 
Dannemont  his  son,  aided  by  Caraheu,  Emperor  of 
India,  have  taken  Rome  by  storm  and  put  to  flight 
Pope,  cardinals,  legates,  and  all.  The  churches  are 
destroyed,  the  Christians  put  to  death ;  and  now  the 
Holy  Father  calls  upon  you,  as  Christian  king  and 
Champion  of  Christendom,  to  march  to  the  aid  of  the 
Church." 

Up  then  sprang  Duke  Naymes,  and  kneeling  before 
Charlemagne,  prayed  him  to  let  him  be  the  first  to  start 
on  the  expedition  against  the  Saracens,  and  to  give  him 
the  lad  Ogier  to  be  his  squire. 

"  And  what  if  he  should  flee  away  to  his  own  land  ?  " 
asked  the  Emperor. 

"  Then,"  replied  the  Duke,  "  1  will  give  up  both  my 
lands  and  my  liberty,  and  go  as  prisoner  in  his  stead." 

So  the  Emperor  gave  his  leave,  and  all  the  barons  of 
his  Court  hastened  away  with  him  to  prepare  for  the 
coming  conflict.  But  though  Duke  Naymes  was  eager 
to  be  the  first  in  the  fight,  he  gave  leave  to  Ogier  to 
hasten  to  the  castle  of  St.  Omcr  that  he  might  say  fare- 
well to  those  who  had  been  his  benefactors.    And  there 


in  haste  was  Ogier  married  to  the  fair  Bellisande,  who 
loved  him  so  tenderly.  Sad  indeed  was  she  at  so 
sudden  a  departure,  but  Ogier  comforted  her,  saying, 
"  Weep  not,  my  dear  one,  for  God  hath  given  me  life, 
and  thou  hast  given  me  love ;  and  these  two  gifts  will 
be  my  strength  in  the  day  of  battle." 

Then  Ogier  rode  away  with  Duke  Naymes  and  his 
companions  ;  and  they,  marching  almost  constantly  by 
day  and  night,  found  themselves  at  length  on  a  hill 
before  the  city  of  Rome,  with  a  large  army  encamped  at 
their  back.  Below  them  the  Saracen  host  filed  out 
against  them,  and  Ogier,  his  ears  full  of  the  din  of 
battle,  longed  sorely  to  follow  Duke  Naymes  and  his 
kinsmen  to  the  fight ;  but  they  forbade  him,  telling  him 
to  remain  among  the  tents. 

So  Ogier  stood  upon  the  hill-top  and  gazed  longingly 
at  the  plain  below.  He  saw  the  armies  clash  together 
in  the  first  onset ;  he  saw  the  golden  standard  of 
Charlemagne  in  the  thickest  fight,  surrounded  by  a 
circle  of  his  bravest  lords ;  he  saw  Duke  Naymes,  his 
master,  riding  beside  the  Emperor  himself  Suddenly 
all  was  confusion,  the  group  of  barons  scattered,  the 
standard  wavered  —  fell  —  recovered  itself — then  fell 
again  ;  and  Ogier  perceived  that  Sir  Alory,  the  standard- 
bearer,  panic-stricken  by  the  repulse  that  Charlemagne's 
body-guard  had  suffered,  had  turned  his  horse's  head 
from  the  fight  and  was  fleeing  for  his  life. 

Seizing  a  battle-axe,  Ogier  dashed  down  the  hill, 
caught  the  bridle  of  Sir  Alory's  horse,  and  raising  the 
fallen  standard,  cried,  "  Coward,  go  hence  and  hide  thee 
among  the  monks  and  women  at  home!  But  leave  the 
banner  of  the  Franks  with  me." 

Then,  hastily  disarming  the  trembling  knight,  Ogier 
called  upon  a  squire  to  dress  him  in  Sir  Alory's  armour, 
leapt  upon  his  horse,  and  sword  in  one  hand,  banner  in 
the  other,  flung  himself  into  the  thick  of  the  fray.  Hew- 
ing a  path  through  the  enemy's  ranks,  he  found  Duke 


Naymes  and  many  other  nobles  had  been  taken  and 
held  as  prisoners  in  the  rear.  To  them  he  rode,  cut 
their  bonds  with  a  touch  of  his  sword,  and  hewed  a  way 
through  the  closing  ranks  of  the  foemen  for  himself  and 
them.  It  seemed  as  though  none  could  stand  against 
the  onslaught  of  the  mighty  young  Dane. 

Suddenly  a  cry  of  horror  ran  through  the  Prankish 
host.  Charlemagne  himself  was  down,  his  horse  killed 
under  him,  and  he  himself  hard  pressed  by  Danncmont 
the  Saracen  prince.  Swooping  down  upon  them,  Ogier 
waved  the  standard  on  high  in  one  hand,  while  he  cut  down 
Dannemont  with  the  other,  and  kept  the  foemen  back 
while  Charlemagne  was  mounting  a  fresh  horse.  Three 
times  that  day  was  the  Emperor  face  to  face  with  death, 
and  three  times  was  his  life  saved  by  the  good  right 
hand  of  Ogier  the  Dane. 

At  length,  with  Ogier  waving  the  standard  at  their 
head,  the  Prankish  host  dispersed  the  Saracens  and 
drove  them  in  disorder  to  the  gates  of  Rome. 

Directly  the  fight  was  over,  the  Emperor  ordered  that 
the  standard-bearer  should  be  brought  before  him  ;  but 
no  one  knew  that  it  was  Ogier,  for  he  wore  his  visor 
down.  Then  said  Charlemagne  to  him,  "  Alory,  though 
you  fled  at  the  first  onset,  you  have  most  nobly  redeemed 
your  honour,  and  no  reward  can  be  too  great  for  this 
day's  work.  Choose,  therefore,  any  province  of  my 
kingdom,  and  you  shall  be  its  ruler,  and  shall  also  be  at 
my  right  hand  to  do  battle  for  me  in  all  my  quarrels." 

But  a  squire  who  stood  by,  and  who  heard  him  speak 
thus  of  Alory,  said,  "  Sire,  this  is  not  that  Alory  of  whom 
you  speak.  Por  he  let  fall  the  colours  and  fled  at  the 
first  onslaught,  to  save  his  own  skin  ;  but  this  knight, 
whom  I  know  not  at  all,  seized  the  standard  from  Alory's 
hands  and  bade  me  dress  him  in  his  armour ;  and  it  is 
he  who  has  fought  so  well." 

Then,  as   all    stood  wondering,  Ogier   took    off  his 
helmet  and   knelt   before   Charlemagne,  saying,  "  Have 
6 


82      STORIES    FROM    OLD   FRENCH    ROMANCE 

pity,  sire,  on  Godfrey,  King  of  Denmark,  and  let  his 
son  atone  for  his  ill  deeds  and  be  your  faithful  vassal  in 
his  stead." 

And  Charlemagne  kissed  his  brow  and  said,  "  My 
anger  towards  you  and  your  father  is  altogether  turned 
to  love.  I  grant  you  your  request.  Rise,  therefore, 
Sir  Ogier  the  Dane,  henceforth  to  be  champion  for 
France  and  Charlemagne,  and  God  be  with  you." 

Thus  did  Ogier  receive  his  knighthood  on  the  field  of 
battle,  and  all  the  peers  of  France  came  about  him  to 
salute  him.  Then  also,  flushed  with  joy,  did  he  once 
more  make  a  rush  upon  the  enemy,  so  that  they  all  fell 
back  before  him.  For  as  sure  as  the  Frankish  host  fell 
into  disorder  or  wavered  before  the  foe,  so  surely  did 
the  fair-haired  Danish  knight  ride  into  their  midst  upon 
his  great  black  horse  and  cheer  them  forward  to  the 
fight  again,  cutting  and  hewing  down  the  foe  on  either 
side,  and  waving  the  banner  of  the  Franks  with  a  great 
shout  of  "  Ogier  the  Dane  is  upon  you  !  " 

Panic-stricken  at  this  sight,  Sadonne,  the  officer  of 
the  King  of  India,  rode  in  haste  to  Dannemont  the 
Prince,  bidding  him  hold  the  field  at  all  costs,  since 
Caraheu,  King  of  India,  with  thirty  kings,  was  coming 
to  his  help. 

But  as  he  rode  he  was  met  by  the  Saracen  army  in 
full  flight,  crying  out  in  terror,  "  Flee  now  and  save 
thyself,  for  Michael  the  Archangel  fights  against  us 
all." 

Finding  himself  face  to  face  with  the  fair-haired 
knight  on  the  great  horse,  Sadonne  promptly  threw 
away  his  arms  and  begged  for  mercy. 

"  Who  are  you  that  I  should  grant  it  ?  "  asked  Ogier, 
and  when  he  answered  that  he  was  the  chief  officer  of 
the  King  of  India  the  Dane  replied,  "  On  one  condition 
only  will  I  grant  your  life.  Bid  Caraheu  meet  me  in 
single  combat,  and  so  let  us  determine  the  issue  of  this 
war." 


STORY    OF   THE   ENCHANTED    KNIGHT        83 

Next  day  came  Caraheu  with  a  gorgeous  train  of 
followers,  and  with  him  came  Gloriande,  his  afifianced 
bride,  the  fairest  woman  in  the  Eastern  world,  whose 
hair  was  like  spun  gold  and  fell  in  a  shower  to  her  feet, 
and  whose  wonderful  gown  of  pearl-embroidered  damask 
had  taken  nine  years  to  weave. 

Then  did  Caraheu,  Emperor  of  India,  make  proclama- 
tion, saying,  "  Where  is  Ogier  the  Dane,  that  I  may 
fight  with  him  in  single  combat?  For  that  am  I  come 
hither,  and  Gloriande,  my  promised  bride,  shall  be  the 
prize  of  victory." 

But  Chariot,  the  son  of  Charlemagne,  looked  darkly 
on  as  they  made  ready,  saying,  "It  is  not  right  that  an 
Emperor  should  contend  with  my  father's  bondsman, 
but  only  with  me." 

To  which  Caraheu  replied,  "  I  fight  not  with  boasters, 
but  with  brave  men.  Sir  Ogier  here  can  rule  men's 
hearts,  which  is  far  nobler  than  ruling  their  lands." 

"  Nay,  noble  sire,"  said  Ogier,  "  though  I  should  be 
loath  indeed  to  give  up  this  conflict,  yet  Chariot  is  the 
Emperor's  son,  and  worthy  to  fight  with  the  bravest." 

"  He  may  fight  with  Sadonne,  my  chief  oflficer,"  said 
Caraheu.     "  For  me,  the  conflict  is  with  you  alone." 

So  a  double  combat  was  arranged,  to  which  Gloriande 
came  to  look  on.  In  the  fight  between  Sadonne  and 
Chariot,  Sadonne  killed  Chariot's  horse,  and  being  a 
man  of  honour,  dismounted  from  his  own,  that  they 
might  fight  on  equal  terms  ;  but  Chariot  only  pretended 
to  fight  until  he  could  reach  the  place  where  stood  the 
steed  of  Sadonne,  upon  which  he  leapt  and  basely  fled 
away. 

Meantime  Caraheu  with  his  wonderful  sword  Courtain 
had  cut  through  Ogier's  shield  and  armour  and  would 
have  pierced  him  to  the  heart,  had  not  the  Dane,  with 
a  vast  effort,  borne  the  Indian  monarch  to  the  ground, 
where  he  lay  helpless.  Yet  Ogier  would  not  kill  him, 
for  he  admired  his  courage  ;  but  as  he  stood  by  him 


84      STORIES   FROM    OLD   FRENCH    ROMANCE 

and  helped  him  to  rise,  there  rushed  upon  the  Dane 
some  three  hundred  Saracens  whom  Dannemont  had 
hidden  in  the  bushes  near  that  place. 

Vainly  did  Ogier  fight,  and  Caraheu  too,  full  of 
wrath  at  their  treachery,  and  crying,  "  Traitors,  better 
death  than  shame  like  this ! "  fought  at  his  side.  But 
being  overpowered  and  disarmed,  the  life  of  Ogier  was 
only  spared  at  the  pleading  of  Gloriande,  and  he  was 
led  away  to  prison,  loaded  with  heavy  chains.  Yet  in  vain 
did  the  Saracens  hope  to  win  the  approval  of  Caraheu 
their  former  ally.  So  full  of  fury  was  he  at  their 
treachery  that  he  went  over,  with  all  his  host,  to  the 
side  of  Charlemagne,  until  the  Saracen  host  should 
atone  for  their  conduct  towards  Ogier. 

But  meantime  Gloriande,  who,  according  to  the  fairy 
gift,  had  loved  Ogier  the  moment  she  set  eyes  upon  him, 
came  in  secret  to  the  prison  and  loosed  his  bonds,  so 
that  he  escaped  to  the  camp  of  Charlemagne  and 
Caraheu. 

Then  all  three,  together  with  the  peers  of  France, 
fought  against  the  Saracen  host  and  prevailed  against 
them  and  drove  them  out  of  Rome.  Gloriande  mean- 
time had  been  rescued  by  Ogier  from  the  foe  and  given 
to  Caraheu  to  be  his  wife ;  in  Rome  were  they  baptized 
and  wedded,  and  returned  to  India  as  Christian  man 
and  woman.  But  first  he  gave  Courtain,  that  famous 
Damascus  blade,  to  Ogier,  saying,  "  By  conquering  me 
in  fair  fight  you  won  my  life  and  also  my  bride,  and 
both  have  you  given  back  to  me.  Take  therefore  this 
sword,  offered  in  friendly  wise,  as  a  pledge  that  I  owe 
all  to  you." 


STORY   OF  THE   ENCHANTED    KNIGHT         85 

CHAPTER    II 
HOW   OGIER   CAME   TO    FAIRYLAND 

WHEN  Ogier  the  Dane  returned  to  France,  he 
found  that  his  wife  Bellisande  had  died,  leaving 
him  a  pretty  babe  named  Baldwin,  of  whom  he  soon 
became  extremely  fond.  During  the  years  in  which  the 
babe  was  growing  into  childhood  at  the  king's  court, 
came  the  news  that  the  pagan  hosts  had  invaded  the 
lands  of  Denmark,  and  that  King  Godfrey  was  hard  be- 
set by  them  in  the  only  town  that  yet  remained  in  his 
hands. 

At  length  the  King  and  Queen,  knowing  they  could 
hold  out  alone  no  longer,  looked  at  each  other  with  eyes 
of  fear,  saying,  "  See  what  has  come  upon  us  because 
of  Ogier,  our  son,  whom  we  left  to  a  cruel  fate ! " 

So,  being  brought  very  low,  they  wrote  a  letter  to 
Charlemagne  the  Emperor,  imploring  him  to  pity  them, 
to  forget  the  past,  and  to  send  them  succour.  But 
Charlemagne  coldly  replied,  "  Since  Godfrey  holds  his 
lands  by  right  of  his  good  sword,  let  him  hold  them 
still.  I  will  not  raise  a  finger  in  his  aid."  And  turning 
to  Ogier,  he  added,  "  You,  surely,  would  not  wish  me  to 
aid  a  traitor  who  refused  to  do  me  homage  and  who 
left  you  to  suffer  for  his  broken  troth  ? " 

But  Ogier  bent  his  knee  before  him,  and  said,  "Sire, 
as  your  vassal  I  kneel  before  you  ;  but  Godfrey  is  my 
father  and  I  must  go  to  his  aid.  The  Emperor  will  not 
forbid  a  son  his  duty." 

So  Charles  said,  "Go,  but  go  alone,  with  your  own 
servants.     For  mine  shall  not  fight  in  a  rebel's  cause." 

Then  Ogier  hastened  to  his  father's  city  with  thirty 
of  his  servants,  but  when  he  reached  the  walls  he  found 
the  foemen  fighting  over  Godfrey  of  Denmark's  lifeless 
body.  Few  as  were  his  followers,  it  was  not  long  before 
Ogier  had  put  to  flight  the  pagan  host,  and  with  the  aid 


86      STORIES   FROM   OLD    FRENCH    ROMANCE 

of  his  good  sword  Courtain,  had  swept  them  from  the 
land.  So  all  the  people  rejoiced  to  have  him  King  of 
Denmark,  and  there  he  stayed  five  years,  governing 
well  and  wisely.  And  when  all  was  firmly  established 
there  he  returned  to  the  Court  of  Charlemagne  at 
Eastertide,  and  came  and  knelt  before  Charlemagne, 
saying,  "  The  son  of  Godfrey,  of  his  own  free  will, 
pays  homage  to  the  Emperor  for  the  land  of  Den- 
mark." 

Then  Charlemagne  embraced  him  warmly,  and  bade 
him  once  more  take  his  seat  among  the  peers  of  France. 

Meanwhile  his  son,  young  Baldwin,  had  grown  into 
a  fair-haired  boy,  full  of  fun  and  spirit,  and  beloved  by 
all  at  the  Court  save  one.  That  one  was  Chariot,  the 
Emperor's  son,  who  had  ever  been  jealous  of  Ogier,  and 
was  now  full  of  spite  against  his  child. 

Now  it  so  fell  out  one  day,  when  Ogier  was  out 
hunting,  that  Chariot  sat  and  played  chess  with  Baldwin 
in  the  palace ;  and  the  boy,  having  easily  defeated  him, 
laughed  in  pleasure  at  his  triumph.  Then  the  Prince, 
beside  himself  with  sudden  rage,  snatched  up  the  heavy 
chess-board  and  beat  out  the  child's  brains. 

Rage  and  misery  took  possession  of  Ogier's  heart 
when  he  returned  to  find  his  little  son  lying  dead  and 
cold.  Taking  the  lifeless  body  in  his  arms,  he  laid  it 
before  the  Emperor's  footstool,  saying,  "  Sire,  look  upon 
your  son's  foul  work." 

Then  was  the  Emperor  sorely  grieved,  so  that  he 
vowed  he  vi^ould  give  half  his  kingdom  to  undo  that 
deed.  "  But,"  said  he,  "well  I  know  that  there  is  nothing 
can  repay  so  great  a  loss." 

"  Truly,"  said  Ogier,  "  there  is  nothing  can  repay,  but 
there  is  a  penalty  that  can  be  paid.  Let  me  therefore 
fight  with  your  son,  and  so  avenge  my  boy's  death." 

"Nay, Ogier,  that  cannot  be,"  said  the  Emperor;  "for 
how  could  my  son  fight  against  you  and  live?" 

"  What  matter  !  "  cried    the   knight.     "  Why   should 


STORY   OF  THE  ENCHANTED    KNIGHT         87 

your   son  live  more   than    mine?     Give  him  then  up 
to  me." 

"  I  cannot  do  it,"  said  the  Emperor. 

"  Then,  sire,"  cried  Ogier  in  great  anger,  "  till  you  learn 
justice,  we  are  foes." 

So  saying,  he  left  the  Court  forthwith,  and  came  to 
Lombardy,  whose  king  was  then  at  war  with  the 
Emperor,  and  Ogier  fought  on  his  side  against  Charle- 
magne. 

In  this  land  did  Ogier  once  again  win  a  great  name 
for  courage  and  daring ;  and  there  it  was  that  men 
would  turn  pale  at  the  mention  of  Ogier  the  Dane,  and 
of  Courtain  his  sword,  and  of  Broiefort,  his  great  black 
war-horse.  And  when  the  hosts  of  Charlemagne  came 
up  against  Desiderio,  King  of  the  Lombards,  Ogier 
prevailed  against  them,  even  as  in  the  days  of  old  he 
had  prevailed  against  their  foes. 

At  length  Charlemagne  himself,  hearing  that  the 
French  were  murmuring  loudly  against  him  because  of 
the  loss  of  their  champion,  marched  forth  himself 
against  the  rebel.  And  when  he  heard  of  his  approach 
the  heart  of  Ogier  the  Dane  smote  him,  for  always  he 
loved  his  master,  though  he  would  not  fight  for  him 
again  till  justice  was  done.  But  Desiderio,  King  of  the 
Lombards,  was  full  of  fear,  dreading  what  would  happen 
when  Charlemagne  appeared.  And  this  is  how  a  poet 
tells  the  story  of  his  coming. 


Ogier  the  Dane  and  Desiderio, 

King  of  the  Lombards,  on  a  lofty  tower 

Stood  gazing  northward  o'er  the  rolling  plains, 

League  after  league  of  harvests,  to  the  foot 

Of  the  snow-crested  Alps,  and  saw  approach 

A  mighty  army,  thronging  all  the  roads 

That  led  into  the  city.     And  the  King 

Said  unto  Ogier,  who  had  passed  his  youth 

As  hostage  at  the  Court  of  France,  and  knew 

The  Emperor's  form  and  face  :  "  Is  Charlemagne 

Among  that  host  ?'    And  Ogier  answered,  "  No." 


88      STORIES   FROM    OLD    FRENCH    ROMANCE 

And  still  the  innumerable  multitude 

Flowed  onward  and  increased,  until  the  King 

Cried  in  amazement  :  "  Surely  Charlemagne 

Is  coming  in  the  midst  of  all  these  knights  !  " 

And  Ogier  answered  slowly,  "  No,  not  yet  ; 

lie  will  not  come  so  soon."     Then,  much  disturbed, 

King  Desiderio  asked  :  "  What  shall  we  do, 

If  he  approach  with  a  still  greater  army?" 

And  Ogier  answered,  "  When  he  shall  appear 

You  will  behold  what  manner  of  man  he  is  ; 

And  what  will  then  befall  us,  I  know  not." 

Then  came  the  guard  that  never  knew  repose. 

The  Paladins  of  France  ;  and  at  the  sight 

The  Lombard  King,  o'ercome  with  terror,  cried  : 

"  This  must  be  Charlemagne  ! "  and  as  before 

Did  Ogier  answer,  "  No  ;  not  yet,  not  yet ! " 

And  then  appeared  in  panoply  complete 

The  Bishops  and  the  Abbots  and  the  Priests 

Of  the  Imperial  Chapel,  and  the  Counts  ; 

And  Desiderio  could  no  more  endure 

The  light  of  day,  nor  yet  encounter  death, 

But  sobbed  aloud  and  said  :  "  Let  us  go  down 

And  hide  us  in  the  bosom  of  the  earth. 

Far  from  the  sight  and  anger  of  a  foe 

So  terrible  as  this  ! "     And  Ogier  said, 

"  When  you  behold  the  harvests  in  the  fields 

Shaking  with  fear,  the  Po  and  the  Ticino 

Lashing  the  city  walls  with  iron  waves. 

Then  may  you  know  that  Charlemagne  is  come." 

And  even  as  he  spake,  in  the  north-west 

Lo  !  there  uprose  a  black  and  threatening  cloud, 

Out  of  whose  bosom  flashed  the  light  of  arms 

Upon  the  people  pent  up  in  the  city  ; 

A  light  more  terrible  than  any  darkness. 

And  Charlemagne  appeared— a  Man  of  Iron. 

His  helmet  was  of  iron,  and  his  gloves 

Of  iron,  and  his  breastplate  and  his  greaves 

And  tassets  were  of  iron,  and  his  shield. 

In  his  left  hand  he  held  an  iron  spear, 

In  his  right  hand  his  sword  invincible. 

The  horse  he  rode  on  had  the  strength  of  iron 

And  colour  of  iron.     All  who  went  before  him, 

Beside  him,  and  behind  him,  his  whole  host, 

Were  armed  with  iron,  and  their  hearts  within  them 

Were  stronger  than  the  armour  that  they  wore. 


STORY   OF  THE  ENCHANTED   KNIGHT        89 

The  fields  and  all  the  roads  were  filled  with  iron, 
And  points  of  iron  glistened  in  the  sun, 
And  shed  a  terror  through  the  city  streets. 
This  at  a  single  glance  Ogier  the  Dane 
Saw  from  the  tower,  and  turning  to  the  King, 
Exclaimed  in  haste,  "  Behold,  this  the  man 
You  looked  for  with  such  eagerness  ! "  and  then 
Fell  as  one  dead  at  Desiderio's  feet. 

For,  in  spite  of  all,  Ogier  could  never  lose  his  love  for 
his  old  master,  though  he  fought  against  him  and  his 
followers  with  all  his  might. 

At  length  the  Franks,  weary  of  being  beaten  by  him 
whenever  he  appeared  upon  the  scene,  plotted  together 
how  they  might  take  Ogier  the  Dane  by  trickery. 

So  they  waited  their  chance,  and  finding  him  one  day 
lying  exhausted  with  a  long  fight  fast  asleep  under 
a  fir  tree,  his  good  sword  fallen  from  his  hand,  they 
bound  him  hand  and  foot,  led  away  his  great  black  war- 
horse  Broiefort,  carried  off  his  sword  and  lance  and 
shield,  and  brought  the  knight  before  the  King. 

Now  Charlemagne  was  so  wroth  with  Ogier  for  fight- 
ing against  him,  that  he  would  have  slain  him  there  and 
then,  and  so  made  sure  that  the  life  of  his  son  Chariot 
would  no  longer  stand  in  danger  of  his  arm.  But  it  so 
happened  that  amongst  those  who  had  taken  Ogier 
prisonerwas  ArchbishopTurpin,whonow  intervened, say- 
ing, "  Sire,  for  the  sake  of  you  and  your  followers  I  forced 
myself  to  take  prisoner  the  noblest  knight  in  Christen- 
dom, but  for  the  sake  of  no  one  in  the  world  will  I  stand 
by  and  see  him  put  to  death.  Now  therefore,  since 
I  took  him  prisoner,  I  claim  him  as  my  captive,  and 
will  keep  him  in  prison  so  that  he  does  no  further  harm 
to  France." 

So  Turpin  led  Ogier  to  his  castle,  where  he  was 
treated  with  the  greatest  kindness  and  consideration. 

In  the  days  that  followed,  while  Ogier  lay  in  prison, 
an  evil  fate  fell  upon  the  Franks,  for  Bruhier,  a  Saracen 
giant,  invaded   France,  marched  against  Charlemagne 


90      STORIES   FROM   OLD   FRENCH    ROMANCE 

and  his  army,  and  utterly  defeated  them.  Again  and 
again  they  rallied  against  the  foe,  but  in  vain  ;  and 
at  length  the  peers  of  France,  utterly  disheartened,  came 
before  Charlemagne,  saying,  "  Send,  we  pray  thee,  for 
Ogier  the  Dane,  since  he  alone  can  stand  against  this 
terrible  foe  and  deliver  us  out  of  his  hands." 

Then  Charlemagne  bowed  his  haughty  head  and  went 
himself  to  the  castle  of  Archbishop  Turpin,  and  prayed 
Ogier  to  come  out  and  to  lead  the  hosts  of  the  Franks 
against  the  Saracen,  as  in  the  days  of  old. 

But  Ogier  made  answer,  "  Not  so,  unless  you  will 
first  deliver  up  your  son  Chariot  into  my  hands." 

So  the  Emperor  departed  in  silence,  for  he  would  not 
sacrifice  his  son.  At  length,  however,  after  another 
terrible  defeat,  the  soldiers  themselves  crowded  round 
him,  saying,  "  Is  it  nothing  to  you  that  we  die  by 
thousands  in  this  vain  struggle  ?  Give  up  your  son  ;  for 
what  is  his  life  against  so  many  ?" 

Very  sadly  did  Charlemagne  agree,  and  with  heav)' 
heart  brought  out  the  wretched  Chariot  and  delivered 
him  into  the  hands  of  Ogier.  And  Ogier,  blinded  by 
the  remembrance  of  his  fair  boy,  so  cruelly  done  to 
death,  would  not  think  of  mercy,  but  clutched  him 
by  the  hair  and  drew  his  good  sword  Courtain,  meaning 
to  cut  off  his  head. 

At  that  moment  came  a  clap  of  thunder  and  a  vivid 
flash  of  lightning,  in  the  midst  of  which  sounded  a  voice 
from  heaven,  which  said,  "  Stay,  Ogier !  Slay  not 
the  son  of  the  King." 

Then  Ogier's  hand  relaxed  its  grasp  and  Courtain 
was  returned  to  its  sheath ;  but  when  the  Emperor 
hastened  forward  to  thank  him  for  his  mercy,  the  proud 
Dane  answered,  "Thank  Heaven,  sire,  not  Ogier  the 
Dane.     He  does  but  do  the  will  of  God." 

But  Charlemagne  would  not  be  repulsed  ;  and  he 
spoke  gentle  words  to  Ogier,  so  that  the  knight's  heart 
melted  within  him,  and  he  embraced  his  former  master 


STORY   OF  THE  ENCHANTED    KNIGHT        91 

with  tears.  And  that  day  were  they  made  friends 
again. 

Now  when  Ogier  would  ride  forth  to  do  battle 
against  the  Emperor's  foes,  he  called  for  his  good  horse 
Broiefort.  But  Broiefort  had  been  quite  lost  sight  of 
during  the  seven  long  years  of  Ogier's  imprisonment, 
and  men  believed  him  to  be  dead. 

"  You  shall  have  my  charger  in  his  place,"  said 
Charlemagne,  and  caused  a  mighty  horse  to  be  led  out ; 
but  when  Ogier  leaned  upon  his  back,  the  creature 
bowed  to  the  earth  under  his  weight.  Ten  other  fine 
animals  were  led  forth  in  turn  that  he  might  try  them ; 
but  none  of  them  were  strong  enough  to  bear  the 
stalwart  Dane. 

"  'Tis  clear  I  must  go  afoot  for  the  rest  of  my  life," 
said  Ogier  in  rueful  wise ;  but  even  as  he  spoke  there 
came  to  him  one  who  said,  "  I  have  seen  Broiefort 
dragging  stones  for  the  building  of  an  abbey  ten  leagues 
away." 

Then  they  hastened  to  that  place  and  found  indeed 
the  good  horse  Broiefort,  but  so  old  and  worn  that 
no  one  but  his  master  would  have  recognized  him. 
Yet  when  Ogier  came  and  leaned  upon  his  back,  the  old 
charger  bowed  not,  but  straightened  himself  beneath  the 
weight ;  and  when  he  knew  his  old  master,  he  whinnied 
and  snorted  with  joy,  and  lay  down  on  the  ground  before 
him  like  a  dog. 

So  once  more  Ogier  went  forth  to  battle,  and  wherever 
he  went  the  foes  of  France  made  way  before  him.  Year 
after  year  passed  away,  and  still  the  champion  of  Charle- 
magne fought  for  him  and  for  his  land.  Grey  and  old 
he  grew,  but  yet  his  arm  remained  strong  and  thousands 
still  fell  before  his  good  sword  Courtain.  When  he  was 
very  old  in  years  he  went  forth  to  fight  in  the  Holy 
War  and  took  many  a  city  of  Palestine.  Then,  weary 
at  length  of  so  much  fighting,  he  left  his  officers  to  rule 
there  in  his  stead  and  with  a  great  fleet  set  sail  for  France. 


92      STORIES    FROM    OLD   FRENCH    ROMANCE 

Now  after  some  days  there  came  down  upon  that  fleet 
a  terrible  storm,  which  tossed  the  vessels  hither  and 
thither  and  left  them  at  the  mercy  of  the  waves.  The 
ship  in  which  Ogier  sailed  was  utterly  wrecked,  and 
having  lost  mast  and  sail  and  oars,  was  driven  out  of 
its  course  into  an  unknown  ocean,  through  which  it  was 
rapidly  carried  and  finally  dashed  upon  a  reef  of  rock 
and  broken  to  pieces.  The  sailors  leapt  in  the  sea  and 
were  crushed  to  death  against  the  iron  rocks ;  Ogier 
the  Dane  alone  stood  firm  upon  the  sinking  deck  and 
gazed  through  the  darkness  into  the  face  of  death. 

Suddenly  a  voice  from  the  air  cried,  "  Ogier,  we  wait 
for  thee.     Fear  not,  but  trust  thyself  to  the  waves." 

So  he  cast  himself  into  the  sea,  and  immediately  a 
huge  wave  seized  him  and  threw  him  high  upon  the 
rocks.  Then  as  he  staggered,  blinded  with  spray,  to 
his  feet,  a  pathway  of  light  shone  out  before  him,  show- 
ing steps  cut  roughly  on  the  face  of  the  cliff.  Up  these 
he  climbed,  following  the  light,  till  at  length  he  found 
himself  outside  a  marvellous  palace,  invisible  by  day, 
but  glowing  bright  in  the  darkness.  Its  walls  were  of 
ivory  and  gold,  and  its  gateway  of  silver  stood  wide 
open  to  welcome  the  sea-tossed  wanderer.  Within  the 
decorated  hall  Ogier  found  a  marvellous  horse  named 
Papillon,  snow-white  in  colour,  with  shoes  of  gold. 
This  beautiful  animal  trotted  towards  him  and  motioned 
him  to  follow  towards  a  room  in  which  stood  a  table 
covered  with  a  dainty  banquet. 

He  then  fetched  water  in  a  golden  basin  and  knelt 
before  Ogier  that  he  might  cleanse  his  hands  before 
eating ;  and  after  the  meal  was  over  the  good  horse 
carried  him  to  a  bed  surrounded  by  tall  golden  candle- 
sticks in  which  sweet-smelling  tapers  burnt  all  night. 

So  Ogier  slept  in  peace  in  the  strange  silence  of  that 
palace ;  and  when  he  awoke  the  palace  had  faded  all 
away  in  the  light  of  the  sun  and  nothing  of  it  was  to 
be  seen. 


STORY   OF  THE   ENCHANTED   KNIGHT        93 

The  place  where  he  now  found  himself  was  an  ex- 
quisite garden  lying  in  the  midst  of  the  land  of  Avalon 
in  the  realm  of  Fairyland.  There  never  rain  or  snow 
is  seen,  nor  breath  of  frost  or  fire  or  hail,  but  everlasting 
sunshine  and  a  soft,  sweet  sky  above,  which  smiles 
upon  flowers  that  never  fade  and  fruits  that  never 
decay. 

While  Ogier  the  Dane  was  looking  in  bewilderment 
round  about  him,  there  came  to  him  the  shining  figure  of 
Morgan  le  Fay,  Queen  of  Fairyland,  who  took  his  hand 
and  said,  "  Long  have  I  waited,  dear  knight,  for  your 
coming.  And  now  you  shall  never  leave  this  fair 
spot,  but  in  youth  perpetual  shall  abide  with  me  for 
ever." 

So  saying  she  placed  upon  his  finger  a  magic  ring, 
which  had  the  effect  of  at  once  making  Ogier  young 
and  strong  as  in  his  early  prime.  And  on  his  head  she 
placed  a  wreath  of  myrtle  and  olive  leaves,  calling  it  the 
Crown  of  Forgetfulness,  From  that  moment  all  his 
past  life  vanished  from  his  mind ;  no  more  did  he  re- 
member Charlemagne  or  his  Court  or  the  long  warfare 
of  past  days,  but,  as  one  born  again,  he  took  up  his  new 
life  in  Fairyland.  And  as  he  wandered  with  her  hand 
in  hand  through  that  fair  region,  he  came  upon  the 
great  King  Arthur,  healed  now  of  his  deadly  wound, 
and  Sir  Lancelot  and  other  brave  knights  of  the  Table 
Round,  with  whom  he  jousted  in  friendly  wise  as  in  the 
days  of  yore. 

Thus  passed  away  two  hundred  years  as  they  had 
been  a  day  or  a  week,  for  nothing  was  known  of  time 
in  Fairyland, 


94      STORIES  FROM   OLD   FRENCH   ROMANCE 

CHAPTER   III 
HOW  OGIER   THE   DANE   RETURNED 

MEANTIME,  things  had  gone  very  ill  in  the  land 
of  the  Franks.  Great  Charlemagne  had  passed 
away,  and  there  was  no  man  to  lead  forth  the  armies  of 
France  against  the  country's  foes.  Again  and  again  the 
land  cried  aloud  for  a  deliverer,  but  there  was  none  to 
help. 

Far  away  in  the  land  of  Faery  at  length  was  heard 
the  echo  of  that  cry,  and  the  kind  heart  of  Morgan 
le  Fay  melted  with  pity  for  the  Franks.  For,  though  she 
sorely  grieved  to  part  with  her  beloved  knight,  she 
decided  that  he  must  return  to  the  land  of  mortals  once 
again,  to  fight  for  France  and  for  Christendom. 

So  one  day,  as  she  kissed  his  brow,  she  lifted  from  it 
the  wreath  of  forgetfulness  and  bade  him  listen  to  that 
distant  cry.  Then  at  once  Ogier  sprang  up  as  one 
aroused  from  sleep,  and  cried,  "  Too  long  have  I  stayed 
in  this  peaceful  land.  See !  the  cry  of  battle  is  in  the 
air,  and  it  may  be  that  Charlemagne,  my  lord,  calls  for 
Ogier  the  Dane  to  go  forth  as  his  champion.  Now  let 
me  go  at  once,  but  tell  me  first — have  I  been  long  in 
this  fair  resting-place  ?  " 

Then  Morgan  le  Fay  smiled  sadly,  saying,  "  The  time 
has  not  been  long  to  us,  dear  knight " ;  and  forthwith 
she  brought  out  Courtain  his  good  sword,  led  forth 
Papillon  to  be  his  charger,  and  raised  up  the  long-dead 
Benoist,  his  squire,  to  bear  him  company. 

Then,  as  she  prepared  to  leave  him,  she  gave  him 
a  torch  saying,  ''  Take  heed  that  you  kindle  this  not, 
for  if  it  remains  unlit  you  shall  live  for  ever;  but  if  by 
chance  it  should  begin  to  burn  away,  take  great  care 
that  the  flame  be  preserved,  for  when  the  last  spark  of 
the  torch  has  died  out,  then  shall  your  life  come  to  an 


STORY   OF   THE   ENCHANTED    KNIGHT        95 

end.  Guard  also,  my  beloved,  the  magic  ring  upon  your 
finger,  for  while  you  wear  it,  your  health  and  youth 
shall  never  fade  away." 

After  these  words  she  threw  Ogier  into  a  deep  sleep 
and  wafted  him  away  by  magic  spells  to  the  land  of 
France.  And  when  he  awoke,  he  found  Courtain  lying 
ready  to  his  hand,  and  Benoist  the  squire  holding 
Papillon  ready  for  him  to  mount.  Then  all  those  years 
in  Avalon  seemed  to  him  but  a  dream,  and  leaping  upon 
his  horse  he  rode  into  the  nearest  city. 

"What  city  is  this?"  asked  Ogier  of  one  whom  he 
overtook. 

"  Montpellier,"  answered  the  man. 

"  I  should  have  known  that,  indeed,"  said  Ogier, 
smiling,  "though  methinks  it  hath  changed  of  late. 
My  kinsman  indeed  is  governor  of  this  city ;  perhaps 
you  know  him — Lascaut  is  his  name." 

"  You  are  jesting,"  said  the  man  in  some  surprise. 
"  It  is  full  two  hundred  years  since  the  days  of  that 
same  governor.  But  he  is  still  remembered  here,  for, 
as  no  doubt  you  know,  he  wrote  the  romance  of  Ogier 
the  Dane.  A  good  story  is  that  same,  and  is  still  sung 
by  one  who  goes  about  the  city,  singing  the  old  tales 
of  long  ago." 

At  this  Ogier  rode  on,  but  the  man  lingered  till  he 
was  overtaken  by  Benoist,  to  whom  he  said,  "  Who  is 
your  master?  " 

"Surely  he  is  not  unknown  to  any  one  in  France?" 
replied  Benoist.     "  He  is  Ogier  the  Dane." 

"  Rascal !  "  cried  the  man.  "  How  dare  you  jest  with 
me !  All  the  world  knows  that  Ogier  the  Dane 
perished  in  a  shipwreck  some  two  hundred  years  ago." 

Meantime,  Ogier  had  ridden  on  to  the  market-place 
of  a  neighbouring  town,  where  stood  an  inn,  well  known 
to  him  in  old  days,  and  kept  by  one  Hubert. 

"Can  we  find  lodging  here?"  he  asked  of  the  man 
who  came  out  to  greet  him. 


96      STORIES   FROM   OLD   FRENCH    ROMANCE 

"  Certainly,  sire,"  replied  the  latter,  looking  with 
interest  at  his  attire. 

"  Then  send  me  Hubert  the  innkeeper,"  said  Ogier, 
preparing  to  dismount. 

"  Sire,"  replied  the  man, "  I  am  the  innkeeper,  and  my 
name  is  William." 

"  Do  not  try  to  deceive  me  !  "  said  Ogier  sternly.  "  I 
know  this  inn  too  well  to  believe  that,  unless  by  chance 
Hubert  hath  died  of  late.  But  if  so,  where  is  his 
son  ?" 

At  that  the  landlord  slammed  the  door  in  his  face, 
and  having  secured  it,  appeared  at  an  upper  window  and 
called  to  those  passing  below,  "  Here  is  a  madman,  or 
one  possessed  with  a  devil,  for  he  wishes  to  speak  with 
Hubert,  my  grandfather's  grandfather,  who  has  been 
dead  these  two  hundred  years.  Seize  him,  then,  and 
send  for  the  Abbot  of  St.  Faron,  that  he  may  come  and 
drive  out  the  evil  spirit  from  him." 

A  rough  crowd  quickly  assembled  about  the  inn  and 
began  to  throw  stones  at  both  knight  and  squire.  Soon 
the  excitement  grew  beyond  all  bounds,  and  an  archer 
on  the  outskirts  drew  his  bow  and  shot  poor 
Benoist  through  the  heart.  Upon  that  Ogier  lost  all 
patience,  and  leaping  upon  Papillon,  he  laid  about  him 
with  Courtain  his  sword  till  the  market-place  was 
covered  with  the  dead.  But  meanwhile  the  heat  of  his 
passion  had  kindled  the  magic  torch  that  lay  in  his 
breast,  and  it  burnt  now  with  a  steady  flame. 

Then  Ogier  rode  hard  from  that  place  till  he  came  to 
the  Abbey  of  St.  Faron,  which  he  himself  had  built 
and  endowed  before  he  went  to  the  Holy  Land.  There 
he  met  the  old  Abbot,  to  whom  he  said,  "  Surely  you  will 
know  me,  good  father,  for  I  am  the  founder  of  this 
Abbey,  and  it  was  at  my  word  that  you  were  appointed 
at  its  head.     Is  not  your  name  Simon  ?  " 

"  Not  so,"  said  the  Abbot,  "  my  name  is  Geoffrey ; 
but  tell  me,  I  pray  you,  to  whom  I  am  speaking." 


STORY  OF  THE  ENCHANTED   KNIGHT        97 

"  I  am  Ogier  the  Dane,"  he  replied. 

The  Abbot  fell  back  a  step  and  gazed  at  him  with 
amazement. 

"  There  was  a  Simon  who  was  abbot  of  this  monas- 
tery long,  long  ago,  and  true  enough,  he  lived  in  the 
days  of  the  great  Ogier,"  he  said ;  "  but  that  was  two 
hundred  years  ago,  and  Simon's  bones  had  fallen  to 
dust  long  before  I  was  born." 

Then  Sir  Ogier  gave  a  loud  cry  of  wonderment. 

"  What,  Abbot  Simon  gone  ?  And  Charlemagne 
and  the  peers  of  France  ?  Where  are  they  all  ?  Not 
dead — surely  not  dead  !  " 

"  Dead  and  buried  two  hundred  years  ago,"  said  the 
Abbot  solemnly  ;  and  at  that  Sir  Ogier  threw  himself 
from  his  horse  and  implored  him  to  hear  his  story. 
Together  they  sat  in  the  great  dim  church,  and  the 
Abbot  listened  and  marvelled,  but  believed  and  rejoiced 
to  think  that  the  champion  of  France  had  returned 
once  more. 

Then  Ogier  gave  into  his  charge  the  magic  torch, 
which  he  placed  beneath  the  church  in  an  iron  chest,  so 
that  very  little  air  might  enter,  and  the  flame,  diminished 
to  a  spark,  might  smoulder  on  for  many  years.  Now 
when  this  was  done  the  Abbot  prayed  Ogier  to  let  him 
see  the  ring  which  had  been  given  him  by  Morgan 
le  Fay,  but  directly  it  was  drawn  from  his  finger  the 
knight  became  at  that  moment  a  shrivelled,  feeble  old 
man,  a  very  skeleton,  and  almost  without  life.  Hasten- 
ing to  put  it  on  again,  he  once  more  found  himself 
young  and  vigorous,  and  leaping  upon  Papillon,  he 
rode  off  against  the  enemies  of  France. 

Black  was  the  outlook  for  the  Franks  that  day,  for 
the  heathen  host  had  scattered  them  on  every  side. 
Suddenly  was  seen  in  their  midst  a  huge  fair-haired 
knight  riding  on  a  milk-white  horse,  and  wherever  he 
went  the  foes  of  France  fled  before  his  path. 

"  Surely,"  cried  at  length  one  old  Frankish  warrior, 

7 


98      STORIES   FROM   OLD   FRENCH   ROMANCE 

mindful  of  the  tales  his  grandfather  had  told  him,  "  'tis 
Ogier  the  Dane !  " 

The  word  was  repeated  from  rank  to  rank,  and  from 
one  part  to  another  the  cry  went  up  of  "  Ogier !  Ogier 
the  Dane ! " 

And  with  this  battle-song  on  their  lips  the  Franks 
rushed  upon  the  foe  as  in  the  days  of  old  and  put  them 
utterly  to  rout. 

This  happened  every  time  the  Dane  went  forth  to 
victory,  until  at  length  the  heathen  host  was  driven 
from  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  land  of  France. 
And  while  he  fought,  the  watchful  Abbot  of  St. 
Faron  noted  that  the  torch  within  the  iron  safe  burnt 
fiercely,  but  when  he  was  at  rest  it  sank  once  again  to 
a  mere  spark. 

Now  when  at  length  the  foes  of  France  had  been  put 
to  silence.  Sir  Ogier  the  Dane  came  to  the  Court  of  the 
Queen  of  France,  for  the  King  had  been  long  dead. 
And  then  once  more  the  effect  of  the  fairy  gifts  was 
seen,  for  both  the  Queen  and  her  chief  lady-in-waiting 
fell  in  love  with  him.  But  the  latter,  finding  that  he  did 
not  return  her  love,  determined  to  have  her  revenge. 
One  day,  when  she  and  the  Queen  of  France  were 
passing  through  an  ante-chamber,  they  happened  to 
find  Ogier  sleeping  upon  a  couch ;  and  the  Queen, 
mindful  of  the  legends  that  were  told  about  him,  drew 
the  magic  ring  softly  from  his  finger  in  order  to  see  what 
would  happen.  To  the  horror  of  the  two  ladies,  the 
handsome  young  knight  turned  at  once  into  a  withered 
skeleton  before  their  eyes.  Before  he  could  awaken, 
the  Queen  hurriedly  slipped  the  ring  on  again,  and 
Ogier  at  once  regained  his  health  and  youth,  but  not 
before  the  lady-in-waiting  had  seen  her  means  of 
revenge. 

When  it  was  openly  announced  that  Ogier  was  to 
marry  the  Queen  and  to  sit  upon  the  throne  of  Charle- 
magne, the  lady  sent  thirty  strong  knights  to  seize  him 


STORY   OF  THE  ENCHANTED   KNIGHT        99 

as  he  rode  out  from  the  palace  and  to  take  from  him 
his  ring ;  but  Papillon,  the  fairy  horse,  saved  his  life 
that  time,  and  leaping  lightly  over  their  heads,  sped  fast 
away. 

So  the  bridal  arrangements  were  made,  and  a  very 
great  ceremony  prepared.  All  the  greatest  peers  of 
France  came  to  the  church  to  see  the  wedding  and  the 
coronation  of  the  famous  Ogier,  and  a  vast  crowd  stood 
in  waiting  outside. 

Suddenly,  as  Ogier  and  his  bride  knelt  before  the 
chancel  steps,  a  dazzling  light  shone  through  the  church, 
and  in  the  midst  of  a  rainbow  cloud  Morgan  le  Fay 
appeared,  clasped  Sir  Ogier  in  her  arms,  and  both 
vanished  together  in  the  mist  with  which  the  place 
was  filled. 

Never  again  was  Ogier  the  Dane  seen  by  mortal  eye ; 
yet  men  say  he  is  not  dead,  since  the  magic  torch  still 
burns  within  the  vault  of  the  Abbey  of  St.  Faron. 
Far  away  in  Avalon  he  dreams  away  the  years ;  but 
one  day,  so  say  the  Franks,  the  trumpet-blast  will  call 
him  back  again  to  his  adopted  land,  and  then  amidst 
the  hosts  of  foemen  will  be  heard  his  battle-cry,  "  Ogier 
the  Dane ! "  and  with  his  good  sword  Courtain  he  will 
appear  agam,  riding  upon  the  white  horse  Papillon,  and 
driving  before  him  the  foes  of  France,  as  in  the  days  of 
old. 


THE   SEVENTH  STORY 
THE    CASTLE    OF   MONTAUBAN 

(From  the  Geste  de  Doon  de  Mayence) 

CHAPTER   I 
THE   FOUR   SONS   OF  AYMON 

ONCE  again  in  the  days  of  Charlemagne  there 
lived  a  certain  bold  knight  named  Duke  ^fWmon. 
This  noble  married  the  sister  of  the  Emperor,  tire  fair 
maiden  Aya,  and  in  due  course  were  born  to  him  four 
comely  sons — Renaud,  Allard,  Guichard,  and  Richard. 

Turbulent  youths  were  they  when  they  grew  up,  and 
ever  ready  to  take  up  arms  in  a  quarrel.  Nor  was  it 
long  before  they  had  their  opportunity  in  a  great  family 
feud  that  began  to  exist  between  Charlemagne  the 
Emperor  and  their  own  house.  For  their  uncle,  Sir 
Bevis,  being  a  knight  of  hot  and  passionate  blood, 
refused  to  do  homage  to  Charlemagne  for  his  broad 
lands,  and  when  Lothair,  the  son  of  the  Emperor, 
came  to  demand  his  fealty,  he  killed  him  unawares. 

This  led  to  open  warfare,  in  which  Duke  Aymon 
and  his  sons,  rebels  at  heart  all  their  lives,  gladly  took 
the  side  of  Sir  Bevis.  But  the  warriors  of  Charlemagne 
were  the  stronger,  and  defeated  the  followers  of  Sir 
Bevis,  and  took  him  and  his  brother  Duke  Aymon 
barefooted  and  bareheaded  into  the  presence  of  the 
Emperor. 

Humbly  they  knelt  before  him  and  humbly  sued  for 
pardon,  and  so,  after  bitter  upbraiding  for  their  dis- 
loyalty, Charlemagne  bade  them  go  in  peace.  Then 
crept  up  that  evil-minded  Ganelon,  always  an  ill  adviser 

100 


THE  CASTLE  OF  MONTAUBAN  101 

to  the  Emperor,  and  reminded  him  how  Sir  Bevis  had 
slain  his  son. 

"  Wouldst  thou  forgive  the  murderer  of  Lothair  ? " 
he  questioned.  "Surely  then  will  all  Charlemagne's 
lords  turn  rebels  and  cut-throats." 

Thus  he  continued  to  speak  in  the  ears  of  Charle- 
magne, and  poisoned  his  mind  so  that  he  repented  him  of 
his  mercy,  and  sent  messengers  to  lie  in  wait  for  Sir 
Bevis  and  kill  him  as  he  set  out  upon  the  homeward 
path. 

Now,  when  this  thing  was  known,  the  sons  of  Aymon 
and  the  Duke  himself  swore  great  oaths  that  they  would 
never  pay  fealty  to  Charlemagne  again  nor  be  at  peace 
with  him  till  they  had  avenged  their  kinsman.  At  that 
time  there  were  in  France  many  discontented  barons 
who  were  always  ready  to  rebel  against  the  Emperor, 
and  these  now  joined  Duke  Aymon  in  a  long  and  fruit- 
less war  against  their  King.  But  after  a  while  the  Duke 
grew  old  and  weary  of  warfare ;  Charlemagne  too  had 
no  desire  to  keep  up  the  long  feud.  So  when  the  latter 
sent  messengers  to  bid  the  old  man  end  the  war  and 
return  to  his  allegiance,  Aymon  replied  that  he  would  be 
ready  to  do  this  if  Charlemagne  would  pay  six  times  the 
weight  of  Sir  Bevis  in  gold. 

And  so  the  feud  came  to  an  end  for  a  time. 

No  long  time  passed,  however,  before  the  daring  and 
rebellious  spirit  of  the  sons  of  Aymon  broke  out  afresh. 

It  so  happened  that  Charlemagne  made  a  great 
tournament  at  his  city  of  Aachen,  and  bade  the  four 
young  men  repair  thither  to  test  their  strength  against 
the  other  youths  of  the  Court. 

So  they  took  their  way  to  the  city  on  horseback,  and 
of  the  four  Renaud  the  eldest  rode  first,  upon  the  back 
of  Bayard  his  famous  charger.  Now  Bayard  was  a 
fairy  horse,  of  great  strength  and  size,  and  none  could 
excel  him  in  speed.  He  had  more  wit  than  many  a 
man,  and  often  had  delivered  his  master  in  time  of  peril. 


No  sooner  had  the  tournament  begun  than  it  was 
quickly  seen  that  none  could  hold  their  own  against  the 
sons  of  Aymon  save  only  those  renowned  knights 
Roland  and  Ogier  the  Dane,  In  vain  did  Chariot  the 
Emperor's  son  and  Bertholair  his  nephew  challenge 
them  to  the  combat.  Each  time  they  did  so  they  were 
brought  to  the  ground  in  shame  and  dishonour.  At 
length  Bertholair  made  a  plot  with  Chariot  to  play  a 
trick  upon  Renaud  which  should  bring  him  to  confusion. 
He  challenged  the  young  man  to  a  game  of  chess, 
making  a  bargain  that  whoever  won  should  become  the 
owner  of  Bayard  the  famous  horse. 

Now  half-way  through  the  game  Renaud  perceived 
that  he  was  being  tricked  in  that  play  and  that 
Bertholair  was  about  to  cry  "  Checkmate  !  "  Springing 
to  his  feet  in  a  gust  of  sudden  fury,  he  drew  his  sword 
Flamberg  from  its  sheath  and  struck  off  the  head  of 
Bertholair  so  that  it  rolled  upon  the  ground. 

At  once  all  the  knights  in  the  place  sprang  to  their 
feet  and  surrounded  the  four  brothers,  who  set  their 
backs  against  an  oak  tree  hard  by  and  prepared  to  sell 
their  lives  dearly. 

Suddenly  into  the  space  between  them  and  the  angry 
courtiers  bounded  the  great  horse  Bayard  and  lowered 
his  head  before  his  master.  Shouting  to  his  brothers  to 
follow  his  example,  Renaud  sprang  upon  his  back.  The 
knights  rushed  forward  and  strove  to  pull  him  off  and 
prevent  the  other  three  from  joining  him ;  but  Bayard 
plunged  and  kicked  and  bit  to  such  effect  that  the 
former  were  obliged  to  fall  back.  Then  the  other  three 
young  men  leaped  up  behind  their  brother,  who  shook 
the  bridle,  crying,  "  Bayard  1 "  and  immediately  the  good 
horse  sped  away  like  the  wind  and  was  out  of  sight 
before  the  discomfited  courtiers  could  think  of  pursuit. 

For  the  next  seven  years  the  four  sons  of  Aymon  lived 
as  outlaws  in  the  wild  woods  that  clothed  the  hills  of  the 
Ardennes.     At  length,  growing  weary  of  this  kind  of 


r^%:^ 


life,  they  determined,  since  they  might  not  fight  in  the 
cause  of  Charlemagne,  to  serve  his  enemies  the  Moors  in 
Spain. 

So  they  took  service  under  a  Moorish  chief  named 
Ivo,  and  won  such  high  renown  that  he  gave  to  Renaud 
his  eldest  daughter  as  wife  and  permission  to  build  on 
the  top  of  a  mountain  among  the  Pyrenees  a  beautiful 
castle  of  pure  white  marble. 

And  this  was  the  Castle  of  Montauban,  where  Renaud 
soon  gathered  many  of  the  discontented  nobles  of 
France  and  bade  them  fight  on  the  side  of  the  Moors 
against  Charlemagne  the  Emperor. 

But  the  wisest  of  all  who  came  was  an  ill-shapen 
dwarf  called  Maugis,  who  was  cousin  to  Renaud  and 
one  of  the  cleverest  magicians  to  be  found  from  East  to 
West.  So  much  did  men  fear  his  power  that,  wherever 
he  chose  to  go,  they  did  not  seek  to  question  or  prevent 
him.  And  so  he  was  sometimes  in  the  camp  of  Charle- 
magne, sometimes  with  Renaud,  sometimes  with  the 
Moors,  and  came  and  went  just  as  he  pleased. 

Now  in  due  time  it  came  to  pass  that  the  anger  of 
Charlemagne  was  kindled  afresh  against  his  nephews 
the  four  sons  of  Aymon,  when  he  heard  of  the  lordly 
castle  which  Renaud  had  built  at  Montauban ;  and  he 
gathered  his  host  and  marched  through  the  mountain 
passes  until  he  stood  beneath  its  white  and  gleaming 
walls.  But  the  castle  was  so  strongly  fortified  and  its 
position  so  secure,  since  it  could  be  approached  only  by 
steep  and  narrow  goat-paths,  that  the  Emperor's  army 
was  powerless  before  it. 

At  length  the  patience  of  Charlemagne  gave  out ; 
and  he  sent  for  Roland  and  gave  orders  that  the  word 
should  be  given  for  retreat,  since  they  were  but  wasting 
time.  But  Roland,  to  whose  advice  the  King  was 
always  willing  to  listen,  said,  "  Let  us,  before  we  retire 
for  good,  try  one  stratagem  upon  them.  Let  us  pre- 
tend to  withdraw  our  forces  from  before  the  castle.     In 


iV*  V  ^?i^*iv 


104     STORIES   FROM   OLD   FRENCH   ROMANCE 

all  probability  Renaud  and  his  men  will  follow  us  in 
their  pride  of  heart,  and  then  will  we  turn  upon  them 
and  slay  them." 

So  Charlemagne  acted  upon  this  advice,  and  next 
morning  the  watchers  on  the  walls  of  the  Castle  of 
Montauban  saw  the  iron-grey  hosts  of  the  Emperor 
turn  their  backs  upon  the  mountain  and  slowly  wend 
their  way  towards  the  road  which  led  to  France. 

At  this  news  there  was  great  rejoicing  among  the 
brothers,  some  of  whom  were  for  making  a  sally  and 
harassing  them  in  the  rear.  But  Maugis  the  Dwarf 
shook  his  big  wise  head,  saying,  "  'Tis  but  a  stratagem, 
and  if  you  sally  forth  you  will  be  doing  the  very  thing 
for  which  they  have  planned.  By  all  means  let  them 
go  and  keep  fast  yourselves  within  your  walls ;  and 
when  they  see  this  they  will  get  tired  of  attacking  so 
wary  a  foe  and  take  themselves  off  for  good." 

Then  Renaud  arose  and  said, "  The  words  of  our  kins- 
man Maugis  are  good  words  and  should  be  observed. 
There  is,  however,  one  thing  that  we  must  do, regardless  of 
risk  or  danger,  now  that  we  are  no  longer  shut  up  within 
these  walls.  'Tis  now  ten  years  since  I  have  seen  my 
mother,  Aya  the  Emperor's  sister,  and  I  long  to  speak 
with  her  again.  Let  my  brothers,  if  they  will,  come 
with  me ;  and  for  greater  safety  we  will  go  in  disguise." 

Now  this  was  no  light  adventure  to  undertake ;  for 
Aymon  their  father  had  taken  an  oath  to  Charlemagne 
that  if  his  rebel  sons  appeared  beneath  his  roof  at 
Dordon  he  would  have  them  cut  to  pieces.  Therefore 
the  four  knights  dressed  themselves  in  pilgrim's  garb, 
with  slouched  hats  and  large  worn  cloaks,  and  went 
barefoot  to  the  Castle  of  Dordon. 

It  so  happened  that  their  father,  Duke  Aymon,  was 
absent  on  a  hunting  expedition  when  they  arrived,  and 
as  pilgrims  in  those  days  were  always  received  with 
respect  and  hospitality,  they  found  no  difficulty  in 
making  their  entrance  to  the  castle. 


THE  CASTLE  OF   MONTAUBAN  105 

The  Lady  Aya  herself  hastened  to  receive  them  in 
the  great  hall,  saying,  "Tell  me,  good  sirs,  what  you 
lack  of  food  or  clothes,  and  I  will  gladly  provide 
them  for  the  love  of  the  Lord,  Who  I  trust  will  guard 
my  own  four  sons  and  bring  them  back  to  me  before 
I  die." 

So  they  sat  them  down  to  meat,  but  could  hardly 
touch  the  food  for  the  love  and  desire  that  was  in  their 
hearts  towards  their  mother.  And  she,  looking  earnestly 
upon  them,  noticed  on  Renaud's  forehead  a  wound  mark 
received  in  a  tournament  when  he  was  but  a  child. 
Rising  to  her  feet,  she  cried,  "  Fair  sir,  if  thou  art 
Renaud,  speak  to  me  now  at  once,  for  my  heart  tells  me 
that  thou  art  my  son." 

Then  Renaud  took  her  in  his  arms  and  embraced  her 
with  tears  of  joy,  and  the  others  kissed  her  a  hundred 
times  over. 

"  But  how  poorly  you  are  dressed,  my  sons ! "  she 
cried  at  last ;  "  and  where  are  your  horses  that  you 
walk  barefoot  ? " 

Then  they  told  her  of  the  danger  in  which  they 
stood  because  of  the  nearness  of  the  hosts  of  Charle- 
magne and  because  of  their  father's  oath.  So  she  put 
good  food  before  them  and  bade  them  eat  in  peace. 

Scarcely  had  they  finished,  however,  when  the  noise 
of  horns  and  horses  was  heard  at  the  gate,  and  a  page- 
boy hastened  in  to  announce  the  unexpected  return  of 
Duke  Aymon ;  and  before  they  had  time  for  more  than 
to  draw  their  pilgrim's  hoods  over  their  faces  as  they  sat 
the  old  man  had  tramped  into  the  hall. 

"And  who  are  these  men?"  he  cried  after  he  had 
greeted  his  wife.  "By  their  garb  they  seem  to  be 
penitents." 

Then  came  his  sweet  wife  and  put  her  hands  upon 
his  broad  chest,  saying,  "  Penitent  indeed  are  they  for 
the  trouble  they  have  cost  you,  for  they  are  our  own 
four  sons,  and  they  have  come  to  seek  harbourage  with 


us  till  the  morn.  Now  surely  thou  wilt  soften  thy  heart 
towards  them  and  repent  thee  of  thine  oath." 

But  the  Duke  looked  sadly  on  his  sons  because  of  his 
oath's  sake  and  said,  "  Children,  this  should  be  ill  coming 
for  thee.  For  I  have  sworn  to  Charlemagne  that  I  will 
not  let  you  hide  under  the  same  roof  as  myself,  nor  give 
you  help  or  protection  in  any  wise." 

Then  said  Renaud,  "The  Emperor  has  pursued  us 
even  to  my  Castle  of  Montauban  to  seek  our  hurt,  and 
now  he  would  put  enmity  between  father  and  son.  But 
this  shall  not  be.  Weary  and  barefoot  as  we  are,  we 
will  but  embrace  our  mother  again  and  depart  at 
once." 

"  Not  so,"  at  length  said  the  Count,  who  had  been 
sitting  with  his  head  bent  sadly  on  his  hand.  "  True  and 
loving  are  ye  towards  your  mother,  and  great  is  the 
risk  you  have  run  for  her  sake.  I  will  therefore  leave 
the  castle  myself,  for  my  oath's  sake,  this  night,  and 
will  sleep  in  my  hunting-lodge,  that  ye  may  depart  at 
dawn  in  peace." 

Now  all  that  night  long,  while  her  four  sons  slept 
soundly  before  the  great  hall  fire,  the  Princess  Aya 
sent  messengers  throughout  the  country  round  about, 
bidding  all  valiant  knights  who  had  a  grudge  against 
the  Emperor  to  come  to  the  Castle  of  Dordon  at  break 
of  day.  So  when  morning  dawned  seven  hundred 
knights  in  full  armour  sat  on  horseback  before  the 
gate,  ready  to  escort  the  four  sons  of  Aymon  in  safety 
to  their  castle  among  the  mountains.  And  they,  who 
had  come  in  pilgrim  garb,  barefoot  and  unarmed,  re- 
turned in  shining  armour  proudly  on  horseback,  clad 
in  the  finest  cloth  and  linen  by  the  hands  of  theii 
mother  Aya. 

Now  when  Charlemagne  heard  of  the  success  of  this 
daring  expedition,  and  how  seven  hundred  of  his  dis- 
contented knights  had  joined  the  forces  of  Renaud  in 
his  mountain  castle,  he  was  very  wroth  and  prepared  to 


take  vengeance  upon  him.  Then  came  to  him  the 
traitor  Ganelon,  and  suggested  that  this  could  best  be 
done  by  bribing  Ivo  the  Moorish  chief,  who  was  the 
friend  and  ally  of  Renaud,  to  betray  him.  With  so 
mean  a  plot  Roland  would  have  naught  to  do ;  but  the 
Emperor,  weary  and  worried  by  news  of  a  threatened 
rebellion  in  the  north,  yielded  to  the  tempter's  voice 
and  made  his  arrangements  with  Ivo  forthwith. 

Now  it  was  well  known  that  at  that  particular  time 
the  chieftain  Ivo  was  on  terms  of  alliance  with  Charle- 
magne the  Emperor,  and  it  was  no  matter  of  surprise 
to  the  sons  of  Aymon  when  Ivo  appeared  at  the  Castle 
of  Montauban  as  his  ambassador  of  peace.  They  gave 
him  hearty  welcome  too,  for  their  minds  were  ever  ill 
at  ease  because  of  the  feud  between  themselves  and  the 
Emperor  and  between  themselves  and  their  father. 

"All  shall  be  sacrificed  to  make  peace  with  the 
Emperor,"  they  said,  "  save  our  honour  and  our  lives." 

"  'Tis  but  a  small  thing  he  asks  of  you,"  replied  Ivo. 
"  He  would  have  you  dress  yourselves  as  pilgrims  as 
you  did  just  now  when  you  visited  your  mother,  and 
that  you  ride  thus,  barefoot  and  unarmed,  to  the 
presence  of  the  King  in  his  Castle  of  Falkalone,  and 
there  ask  his  pardon  and  do  homage  to  him." 

"  That  will  we  gladly  do,"  said  Renaud,  and  so  said 
they  all. 

Not  long  after  they  had  thus  agreed  with  Ivo,  the 
four  brothers  dressed  themselves  in  pilgrim's  garb  and 
prepared  to  mount  the  mules  which  should  take  them 
over  the  mountains  to  the  Castle  of  Falkalone.  But  as 
Renaud  was  saying  farewell  to  his  wife  Clarissa,  the 
daughter  of  Ivo,  she  hung  about  his  neck  and  prayed 
him  with  tears  not  to  go  alone  and  unarmed  upon  this 
undertaking. 

"  For,"  said  she,  "  I  have  a  foreboding — knowing  my 
father  as  I  do — that  he  is  in  the  pay  of  Charlemagne 
for  this  matter,  and  that  in  going  to  Falkalone  you  are 


/^#*\i^vW■?i/*»■ 


108     STORIES   FROM   OLD   FRENCH    ROMANCE 

but  walking  into  a  trap.  Hear  me,  then,  and  cither  go 
not  at  all  or  fully  armed." 

But  Renaud  shook  his  head  and  chid  her  gently  for 
her  want  of  faith  in  Ivo  her  father.  "  Say  no  more," 
said  he.  "  I  will  hear  nothing  said  against  the  truth 
and  goodwill  of  my  old  ally." 

So  he  strode  off  to  mount  his  mule ;  but  his  wife  called 
Allard  softly  back,  and  gave  him  four  swords,  and 
among  them  good  Flamberg,  the  famous  weapon  of  her 
lord.  "  You  will  have  need  of  these,  good  brother,"  she 
said.  "Take  them,  therefore,  and  hide  them  beneath 
thy  robe.  But  see  you  say  nothing  of  them  to  my  lord 
till  the  right  time  comes." 

So  Allard  took  and  hid  the  swords  beneath  his  cloak, 
and  forthwith  the  four  brothers  set  out  upon  their  road 
down  the  steep  mountain-side.  Not  far  were  they  from 
Falkalone  when  suddenly,  as  they  were  passing  through 
a  deep  and  narrow  valley,  there  was  a  shout,  a  clash  of 
arms,  and  three-score  mounted  men  of  the  troops  of 
Charlemagne  threw  themselves  upon  them.  In  a  trice 
Allard  pulled  out  three  of  the  swords  and  threw  them 
to  his  brothers,  but  even  when  armed  the  odds  against 
them  were  far  too  many.  Richard,  Allard,  and  Guichard 
were  soon  taken  prisoner,  and  Renaud  was  only  saved 
by  the  oncoming  darkness,  which  enabled  him  to  cut 
down  his  confused  and  blundering  foes,  and  to  make 
a  way  for  himself  up  the  mountain-side.  And  so  at 
length,  weary  and  bloodstained,  he  made  his  way  back 
to  the  Castle  of  Montauban. 


THE  CASTLE   OF   MONTAUBAN  109 

CHAPTER   II 
THE   GOOD   STEED   BAYARD 

WHEN  Renaud,  a  sadder  and  a  wiser  knight,  had 
made  his  return  to  Montauban,  he  fully  expected 
that  the  army  of  Charlemagne  would  quickly  reappear 
before  his  walls  to  begin  the  siege  anew.  But  just 
as  the  Emperor  was  about  to  give  orders  to  this  effect, 
a  messenger  arrived  hot-foot  from  Paris,  with  news  of  a 
serious  rebellion  in  the  region  of  Northern  France,  so 
that  he  was  obliged  to  turn  his  face  in  that  direction 
without  further  delay.  In  order,  however,  to  serve  as  a 
lesson  to  the  rebels  of  the  north,  he  ordered  the  three 
prisoners,  Richard,  Allard,  and  Guichard,  to  be  carried 
thither  in  chains  in  order  that  they  might  be  hanged  on 
the  walls  of  Paris. 

Deep  was  the  distress  within  the  walls  of  Mont- 
auban when  this  news  was  brought  by  one  of  Renaud's 
spies. 

"  I  cannot  leave  my  brothers  to  such  a  fate,"  cried 
Renaud.  "  Bravely  here  they  stood  by  me,  and  now  go 
I  forth  to  rescue  them." 

And  to  this  his  fair  wife  readily  agreed.  So  Renaud 
mounted  upon  his  good  horse  Bayard  and  rode  forth 
alone  in  the  track  of  the  Emperor's  army. 

Now  the  weather  grew  very  sultry  about  the  noontide 
hour,  and  Renaud  became  extremely  sleepy  and  would 
lay  him  down  to  rest.  It  seemed  a  safe  part  of  the 
country ;  trees  were  scattered  over  a  meadow  which 
sloped  to  a  little  stream.  The  horse  put  his  head  down 
to  crop  the  tender  grass,  and  his  master,  slipping  from 
the  saddle,  lay  down  under  an  oak  tree  and  was  soon 
asleep.  Before  very  long  the  horse,  as  he  fed,  had 
wandered  some  distance  from  his  master,  whose  form 
was  almost  hidden  by  the  long  grass  amongst  which  he 
lay. 


no     STORIES   FROM    OLD   FRENCH    ROMANCE 

Presently  there  came  by  that  way  a  little  band  of 
countrymen,  with  whom  journeyed  a  certain  traveller  who 
had  seen  something  of  the  world  and  was  not  unlearned 
in  the  art  of  magic. 

This  man  had  often  heard  of  Bayard,  the  wonderful 
fairy  horse,  and  now,  as  he  looked  about  him  and  saw 
the  straying  steed  busily  crop  the  grass,  he  stopped 
short  and  exclaimed,  "  Surely  that  is  the  famous  horse 
of  Renaud,  the  rebel  knight  ?  " 

"  Not  so  ! "  said  his  companions.  "  Renaud  is  safe  in 
the  Castle  of  Montauban  ;  he  would  never  venture  as 
far  north  as  this.     But  'tis  a  very  gallant  steed  !  " 

"  Renaud's  or  another's,  I  care  not,"  said  the  traveller. 
"  See  how  rich  is  his  harness  and  his  stirrups  of  gold  ! 
Let  the  man  who  catches  him  take  him  to  Paris  and 
make  a  present  of  him  to  the  Emperor.  Methinks  that 
man  shall  have  a  rich  reward." 

At  once  the  countrymen  attempted  to  catch  the 
horse,  who  threw  up  his  head,  ran  a  few  paces  off,  and 
continued  to  crop  the  grass.  This  he  repeated  whenever 
they  approached  him,  until  at  length  they  had  to  confess 
that  theirs  was  a  hopeless  task.  Then  the  traveller, 
who  had  watched  their  attempts  with  jeers,  drew  near 
the  horse,  and  waving  his  hands,  uttered  some  magic 
spells,  while  at  the  same  time  he  threw  over  his  head 
a  fine  white  powder.  The  creature  stood  still  with 
bowed  neck,  quivering  in  every  limb,  and  the  traveller, 
seizing  his  reins,  sprang  upon  his  back  and  set  off  at  a 
speed  like  the  wind  towards  Paris. 

When  the  Emperor  arose  next  morning,  word  was 
brought  him  that  a  matchless  horse  stood  in  the  court- 
yard before  the  palace  and  that  its  owner  craved 
audience  of  the  King. 

Hurrying  forth  to  see  what  this  might  mean,  Charle- 
magne at  once  saw,  with  the  keenest  delight,  that  none 
other  than  Bayard,  the  famous  horse  of  Renaud,  stood 
before  him. 


THE   CASTLE   OF   MONTAUBAN  111 

No  amount  was  too  high  to  pay  for  such  a  prize  ;  the 
traveller  went  away  rich  and  well  content,  and  Bayard 
was  led  to  the  royal  stables. 

Meantime  the  unfortunate  Renaud  had  awaked  and 
discovered  his  loss.  Everywhere  he  searched  and  called, 
and  at  length,  with  a  heavy  heart,  sat  down  on  a  stone 
by  the  wayside  to  bemoan  his  loss.  "  Woe  is  me  ! "  he 
cried.  "  First  I  lose  my  father's  affection  and  my 
mother's  tender  care,  then  my  brothers  are  taken  from 
me,  and  now  my  horse,  my  beloved  Bayard,  has  been 
stolen  away.     Why,  why  should  I  live  any  longer?" 

"To  do  your  duty,  Sir  Knight,"  replied  a  voice  in 
his  ear,  which  made  Renaud  spring  to  his  feet  in  alarm. 

Before  him  stood  bowing  to  the  ground  an  odd  figure 
of  a  little  old  man,  with  a  long  white  beard  and  bright 
beady  eyes. 

"What  do  you  mean,  old  fellow?"  asked  Renaud 
somewhat  peevishly. 

"  You  are  cast  down.  Sir  Knight,"  replied  the  dwarf. 
"But  who  knows  what  is  in  store  for  him?  The  wise 
man  does  not  lose  hope,  but  looks  about  him  for  some 
means  of  help." 

"  And  can  you  find  me  that  ? "  scoffed  the  knight. 

"  What  will  you  give  me  if  I  do  ? "  asked  the  little  man. 

"  Take  my  golden  spurs — for  what  use  are  they  with- 
out a  horse  to  ride?"  said  Renaud,  unbuckling  them  as 
he  spoke. 

"And  what  else  have  you  to  offer?"  quietly  asked 
his  companion,  as  the  priceless  spurs  disappeared 
beneath  his  cloak. 

Then  Renaud  began  to  look  displeased.  "  What 
have  you  to  offer  in  return,  I  should  like  to  know?"  he 
said.  "  I  have  a  good  mind  to  offer  you  a  sound  box  on 
the  ear  for  your  grasping  spirit." 

"  Nay,  nay,  good  sir,  that  would  be  unwise  indeed," 
said  the  little  man  quietly ;  "  for  many  have  sought 
favours  from  me  in  my  day,  and  have  laid  their  richest 


112     STORIES   FROM   OLD   FRENCH   ROMANCE 

gifts  at  my  feet  in  order  to  buy  one  tenth  part  of  the 
help  I  can  give  to  you." 

"  Take  this  cloak,  then,"  and  with  these  words  Renaud 
unbuckled  his  rich  velvet  mantle,  stiff  with  golden  em- 
broidery, which  the  dwarf  deftly  folded  up  and  tucked 
under  his  shabby  cloak. 

Then  he  bowed  again  and  asked  gently,  "  And  what 
next  has  my  lord  to  offer  ?  " 

At  this  Renaud's  wrath  knew  no  bounds.  Drawing 
his  sword  Flamberg  from  its  scabbard,  he  held  it 
threateningly  over  the  old  man's  head,  crying, "  Now  will 
I  offer  thee  but  one  blow  of  my  good  sword,  for  thou  art 
a  robber  and  naught  else." 

"  Is  that  so.  Sir  Renaud  ? "  smiled  the  dwarf.  "  Then 
wouldst  thou  slay  Maugis,  thy  cousin,  who  can  indeed 
be  of  help  to  thee  in  time  of  need."  And  with  that  he 
pulled  off  his  beard,  threw  back  his  hood,  and  stood 
revealed  as  Maugis  the  Magician. 

"  You  have  a  good  heart,  my  cousin,"  said  he ;  "  and 
now  put  yourself  in  my  hands.  Fear  not ;  your  brothers 
are  in  prison,  but  are  yet  alive,  and  Bayard  is  in  the 
hands  of  Charlemagne.  Only  do  as  I  tell  you,  and  all 
shall  yet  be  free  as  the  air." 

With  these  words  he  took  from  his  wallet  a  shabby 
pilgrim's  gown  and  hood,  like  his  own,  and  bidding  the 
knight  hide  his  helmet  in  the  grass,  he  put  this  upon 
him,  so  that  it  covered  him  from  head  to  foot  and  only 
half  revealed  his  face. 

Thus|  disguised  the  two  men  proceeded  on  their  way 
to  Paris. 

Three  days  later  the  streets  of  that  city  were  gay  with 
a  fine  procession,  which  passed  from  the  palace  to  a 
field  where  a  tournament  was  to  be  held.  In  the  midst 
rode  the  Emperor  in  cloth  of  gold,  and  in  front  of  him 
paced  the  noble  steed  Bayard,  led  by  four  grooms,  and 
richly  caparisoned  in  silk,  softest  leather,  and  fine  crim- 
son cloth  embroidered  with  white  lilies, 


THE   CASTLE   OF   MONTAUBAN  113 

"  Whose  horse  is  that  ?  "  asked  a  bent  old  pilgrim  of 
a  citizen  who  stood  near  him  on  the  bridge  over  the 
River  Seine. 

"  That  remains  to  be  seen,"  replied  the  man.  "  The 
Emperor  has  promised  him  to  the  man  who  in  the  lists 
to-day  can  most  easily  mount  and  ride  him  ;  for  up  to 
now  he  lets  no  man  put  foot  in  his  stirrups." 

"  And  who  gave  him  to  the  Emperor  ?  "  asked  Maugis, 
for  it  was  he. 

Before  the  citizen  could  answer,  the  procession  sud- 
denly was  thrown  into  confusion.  The  horse  Bayard 
had  stopped  short,  thrown  up  his  head,  scattering  his 
grooms  right  and  left,  and  with  a  loud  neigh  had 
galloped  across  the  bridge  and  laid  his  nose  on  the 
shoulder  of  the  taller  of  the  two  poorly  clad  pilgrims. 

There  was  a  cry  of  "  Bayard ! "  from  the  peers 
who  rode  at  Charlemagne's  right  hand,  and  the  King 
himself  pushed  forward  and  caught  at  the  horse's 
reins. 

"  Gracious  sovereign  ! "  cried  the  dwarf,  throwing  him- 
self before  the  King's  own  steed.  "  A  boon  !  A  boon  !  I 
crave  a  boon  ! " 

"  Say  on  then,"  said  the  Emperor,  always  gentle  to 
pilgrims,  monks,  and  women;  and  the  dwarf  continued — ■ 

"  Sire,  my  comrade  here  is  deaf  and  dumb  and  blind 
from  his  birth.  But  a  wise  man  hath  foretold  that  if  he 
could  but  once  ride  in  a  tournament,  even  though  he 
be  no  knight,  a  miracle  shall  take  place  and  he  shall  be 
healed." 

"  He  is  mad  ! "  cried  the  courtiers  ;  but  the  Emperor 
said — 

"  No  matter  if  he  is.  Push  on  to  the  field  and  let  us 
see  what  he  can  do." 

Now  when  that  tournament  began,  all  the  flower  of 
Charlemagne's  knights  strove  again  and  again  to  mount 
and  ride  good  Bayard  ;  but  not  one  of  them  would  he 
allow  to  set  his  foot  in  his  stirrups.    At  length  the  dwarf 


114     STORIES    FROM    OLD   FRENCH    ROMANCE 

appeared  again  before  the  King,  leading  the  taller 
pilgrim,  and  reminding  the  King  of  his  promise. 

"  The  horse  will  kill  him.  Let  him  try  a  gentler 
steed,"  said  Charlemagne. 

But  the  little  man  answered,  "  What  matter  if  he  kill 
him  ?  Is  his  life  so  dear  that  he  should  seek  to  pro- 
long it?" 

So  the  Emperor  gave  orders  that  the  horse  should  be 
held  while  others  lifted  the  afflicted  man  upon  his  back. 
No  sooner  had  the  foot  of  the  pilgrim  touched  the 
stirrup  than  he  leaped  upon  him  and  bending,  whis- 
pered "  Bayard  ! "  in  his  ear.  Like  a  flash  of  light- 
ning the  animal  sprang  forward,  dashed  over  the  field 
into  the  river,  swam  across,  and  took  the  road  to  the 
south  before  the  astonished  onlookers  could  say  a  word. 
On  flew  the  horse,  swifter  and  swifter,  never  stopping 
till  he  stood  panting  and  weary  before  the  gates  of  the 
Castle  of  Montauban.  And  so  the  troubles  of  Renaud 
came  for  a  while  to  an  end. 


CHAPTER  III 
THE   OATH    OF   THE    EMPEROR 

DURING  the  uproar  that  followed  the  escape  of 
Renaud  the  dwarf  Maugis  seemed  to  have  van- 
ished. Search  was  made  everywhere  for  a  pilgrim  in 
worn  and  shabby  cloak,  but  no  such  person  appeared 
to  exist  within  the  walls  of  Paris, 

But  at  midnight  a  little  grey  man  slipped  quietly  into 
the  gloomy  prison  tower  that  stood  hard  by  the  King's 
palace.  Whispering  a  word  to  the  sleepy  warders,  he 
passed  on  unchecked  till  he  came  to  an  iron  door  which 
seemed  to  open  of  its  own  accord.  This  led  into 
a  dark  and  noisome  cell,  where  three  figures,  heavily 
chained,  lay  upon  the  damp,  unwholesome  floor. 


THE   CASTLE   OF   MONTAUBAN  115 

"Rise,  cousins,"  said  the  dwarf  quietly.  "It  is  I, 
Maugis,  come  to  set  you  free." 

With  that  he  quickly  unfastened  their  fetters  with 
a  tiny  key  which  seemed  to  open  every  kind  of  lock, 
and  the  three  brothers,  Allard,  Guichard,  and  Richard, 
dazed  and  stupefied,  made  their  way  out  of  the  prison. 
Before  day  broke,  all  four — rescued  and  rescuer — were 
riding  like  the  wind  towards  the  Castle  of  Montauban. 

This  daring  escape  only  served  to  increase  the  wrath 
of  Charlemagne,  who  now  swore  a  great  oath  that  he 
would  never  cease  the  warfare  until  he  sat  at  the  head 
of  the  banquet  in  the  white  castle  of  his  rebellious 
nephew. 

So  once  more  the  army  was  summoned  and  took  the 
road  to  Montauban.  There  was  but  little  chance  of 
taking  the  place  by  assault ;  the  only  hope  was  to  starve 
out  the  garrison  and  play  the  game  of  waiting.  But 
Charlemagne  knew  that  the  advantage  was  all  on  the 
side  of  Renaud  as  long  as  he  had  Maugis  with  him. 
For  Maugis  was  aware  of  secret  paths  unknown  even 
to  Renaud,  and  there  was  little  danger  of  actual  starva- 
tion for  the  besieged,  though  commons  might  very  likely 
run  short. 

Now  one  dark  night  the  wise  dwarf  crept  down  the 
mountain-side  and  entered  the  camp  of  Charlemagne  to 
spy  out  the  land.  He  had  no  fear  of  danger,  for  when 
he  approached  a  sentry,  he  sprinkled  a  fine  white  powder 
in  the  air  which  had  the  immediate  effect  of  making 
him  drowsy  and  dull  of  brain.  He  advanced  in  safety 
therefore  right  up  to  the  tent  of  Charlemagne,  and  was 
about  to  raise  the  curtain  that  hung  before  it,  scattering, 
as  he  did  so,  his  powder  over  the  man  who  lay  stretched 
upon  the  entrance,  when  suddenly  the  latter  sprang  up, 
seized  the  dwarf  in  an  iron  grasp,  and  dragged  him  into 
the  presence  of  the  King. 

His  captor  was  Oliver,  one  of  Charlemagne's  most 
renowned  peers,  who  had  been  on  the  look  out  for  the 


116    STORIES   FROM   OLD   FRENCH    ROMANCE 

tricky  little  man  for  a  long  time,  and  who  was  one  of  the 
very  few  who  were  quite  unaffected  by  his  magic 
powders. 

"  Ho  !  It  is  thou  ! "  cried  Charlemagne  at  sight  of  him. 
"  Now  can  we  put  an  end  to  thy  cunning  and  sorcery. 
Bind  him  fast,  good  Oliver,  take  him  forth  and  fling  him 
from  the  top  of  yonder  precipice." 

"Very  good,  my  gracious  liege,"  replied  the  dwarf, 
unmoved.  "  My  life  is  one  of  some  small  value  to  others 
but  of  none  to  myself  But  it  is  customary,  1  believe,  to 
grant  to  dying  men  one  boon." 

"  What  is  that  ?  "  asked  the  King. 

"  That  I  may  be  allowed  to  live  just  long  enough  to 
sit  with  you  and  your  peers  at  the  banquet  once  again," 
said  Maugis,  who  in  former  days  had  always  been 
a  welcome  guest  on  festive  occasions. 

The  Emperor  nodded  grimly.  "'Tis  not  much  to 
ask,"  he  said,  "  and  anyhow  the  affair  will  not  last  long." 

So  all  that  day  invitations  were  issued  and  a  great 
banquet  prepared  ;  only  Oliver  could  not  be  present, 
for  he  had  undertaken  to  make  a  night  attack  upon 
some  of  the  followers  of  Renaud,  who  he  had  reason  to 
think  had  taken  this  opportunity  to  fetch  food  from 
the  valleys. 

A  noble  array  of  peers  sat  down  with  Charlemagne 
that  night,  and  ate  and  drank  and  pledged  each  other 
with  right  goodwill,  while  Maugis  sat  at  the  Emperor's 
right  hand  and  laughed  and  talked  with  the  best  of 
them.  But  no  one  saw  that  every  few  minutes  he 
quietly  cast  into  the  air  a  certain  amount  of  a  powder, 
so  fine  that  no  one  could  detect  its  presence. 

Gradually  a  strange  drowsiness  overtook  the  ban- 
queters. Heads  began  to  nod  and  eyes  to  close,  and 
before  the  feast  was  over,  every  one  save  Maugis  lay 
back  in  his  seat  sound  asleep. 

Waiting  only  till  the  Emperor  seemed  to  have  passed 
into  the  most  profound  slumber  of  all,  Maugis  jumped 


THE   CASTLE   OF   MONTAUBAN  117 

from  his  seat,  and  with  a  chuckle  of  glee  began  to 
hoist  him  upon  his  shoulders.  Luckily,  though  he  was 
so  short,  the  dwarfs  back  was  very  broad,  and  he 
managed  thus  to  convey  the  burly  figure  of  Charlemagne 
up  the  mountain-paths  till  he  stood  before  the  Castle  of 
Montauban. 

At  a  word  from  him  the  gates  swung  open,  and 
forthwith  he  bore  his  strange  burden  through  the  midst 
of  the  astonished  sentries  and  into  the  great  hall,  where 
Renaud  and  his  followers  were  sitting. 

"  Here  is  a  hostage  for  you,  good  cousins,"  quoth 
Maugis  with  a  laugh.  "  Keep  him  safe,  for  otherwise 
he  would  have  me  lie  to-night  at  the  bottom  of  a 
precipice." 

You  may  imagine,  if  you  can,  the  amazement  of 
Renaud  and  his  brothers  when  they  saw  their  lord  and 
uncle  thus  lying  at  their  mercy.  But  they  were  honour- 
able foes,  and  scorned  to  take  advantage  of  him ;  so 
they  carried  him,  still  sleeping,  to  the  finest  room  in  the 
castle  and  laid  him  upon  a  noble  bed,  and  left  him  to 
slumber  in  peace. 

When  Charlemagne  awoke  at  noon  next  day  he  was 
first  overcome  with  bewilderment  at  his  surroundings, 
and  then  with  fury  at  the  way  he  had  been  tricked.  In 
vain  did  Renaud  remind  him  that  all  was  fair  in  love 
and  war ;  finding  that  the  Emperor's  wrath  only  grew 
hotter  as  the  discussion  went  on,  he  suggested  that  they 
should  postpone  it  for  a  time,  and  that  meantime  the 
Emperor  would  condescend  to  share  a  meal  with  him. 

This  Charlemagne  would  gladly  have  declined,  but  as 
he  had  awakened  exceedingly  hungry  he  thought  it 
better  not  to  do  so.  So  descending  to  the  great  hall  of 
Montauban,  he  seated  himself  at  table. 

There  all  was  arranged  in  royal  fashion.  Golden 
cups,  dishes,  and  plates  were  put  before  the  Emperor, 
and  the  most  rare  and  delicious  foods  were  brought  in 
and  set  before  him.     His  four  nephews,  in  courteous 


118     STORIES   FROM   OLD   FRENCH    ROMANCE 

fashion,  tasted  the  meals  first  themselves  to  assure  him 
they  were  free  from  poison,  and  afterwards  served  him 
on  bended  knee. 

All  this  seemed  at  the  beginning  to  have  a  softening 
effect  upon  the  Emperor,  but  when  he  had  finished  the 
meal  he  grew  angry  and  morose  again.  Then  came 
Renaud  and  knelt  before  him,  humbly  begging  for  peace 
and  an  end  to  the  long  feud.  But  Charlemagne  re- 
membered the  many  ways  in  which  he  had  been 
worsted  by  his  nephews  in  former  times  and  hardened 
his  heart  against  them. 

"  Open  your  gates  to  your  Emperor,"  he  cried,  "  for 
he  will  never  make  peace  with  traitors." 

"  Traitors  are  we  not,"  replied  Renaud,  "  and  to  prove 
it,  although  I  have  the  Emperor  utterly  in  my  power,  I 
now  give  him  full  leave  to  depart.  Open  the  gates  and 
let  him  go  forth." 

So  Charlemagne  departed  ;  but  his  great  figure  some-  ^ 
how  looked  less  heroic  than  usual  as  he  strode  unfor- 
giving down  the   mountain-side,  leaving   his  nephews 
looking  sadly  after  him. 

As  Renaud  turned  back  to  enter  the  castle  Maugis 
the  Dwarf  stood  in  his  way  and  looked  darkly  at  him. 

"  Fool  that  thou  art,  O  Renaud,"  cried  the  little  man, 
"and  unworthy  of  my  wiles!  Why  didst  thou  not 
Keep  him  fast  prisoner  until  thou  hadst  made  what 
:erms  thou  wilt?  Now  will  I  offer  him  my  services, 
since  thou  makest  them  of  so  little  account." 

"  Honour  comes  before  advantage,  O  Maugis,"  said 
Renaud  sadly  but  firmly.  But  this  Maugis,  not  being  a 
knight,  could  not  understand. 

Now  when  Charlemagne  had  returned  in  safety  to  his 
tent  there  came  to  him  Roland,  his  favourite  knight, 
and  heard  ail  his  adventure.  And  when  the  story  was 
told  Roland  said  gravely,  "  Surely,  sire,  'tis  a  pity  to 
prolong  this  weary  warfare  with  our  kinsmen.  Why 
not  grant  them  your  forgiveness  on  condition  that  they 


THE  CASTLE  OF   MONTAUBAN  119 

do  homage  and  promise  their  allegiance  to  you  hence- 
forth ?  " 

"  I  cannot  do  it,"  said  Charlemagne,  "  for  thus  I 
should  break  my  pledged  word.  Dost  thou  forget  the 
oath  that  I  swore  that  I  would  never  cease  this  struggle 
until  I  should  feast  in  the  Castle  of  Montauban  ?  " 

"And  that  you  have  now  done,"  said  Roland 
calmly. 

The  great  Emperor  stood  for  a  moment  wrapped  in 
thought.  Then  once  more  his  jovial  laugh  rang  out 
as  in  the  days  of  old,  and  clapping  Roland  on  the 
shoulder  he  cried,  "  Thou  sayest  well.  My  oath  is  now 
fulfilled,  and  thou  shalt  be  the  one  to  offer  terms  forth- 
with. Tell  them  all  shall  be  forgiven  and  forgotten  if 
they  will  serve  under  me  as  loyal  peers  of  France." 

And  that  was  how  peace  and  joy  came  at  that  time 
to  the  Castle  of  Montauban. 


Printed  in  Great  Britain  at 

The  Mayflower  Press,  Plymouth, 

William  Brendon  &  Son,  Ltd. 


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